Accidents Happen
by TooMuchCaffine
Summary: Can the team solve a crime against one of their own? Can they do it with two agents in the hospital and a maniac after them? Tiva
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is my first ever attempt at fan-fiction, so it probably sucks. Be honest in your reviews. If you think that the characters are OOC, tell me and I'll try to fix my mess.

* * *

"Will you...remind me..again...why...I agreed to this torture? The sun doesn't rise for another three hours! You're killing me!" Anthony DiNozzo whined. He was never one for patience, however he drew the line at rising at 4:30 in the morning in mid-December to go running. _Crazy chick..._he thought to himself. 

"If you recall, you asked for me to help you train because last year you failed the annual fitness test as a result of your poor cardio." Ziva calmly replied. "The loop is only another half-mile or so, and look" she glanced at her watch, "it is only five twenty!"

"You said it was a half-mile twenty minutes ago!" He retorted.

"Yes, well that was _before_ you needed to stop on the bench to keep from kneeling over." She said, sounding quite calm for someone who had just run six miles in single digit weather with a winter storm on its merry way.

"I believe you mean 'keeling over' my foreign friend." He taunted with a grin. Not that it mattered that he was teasing her, she had become accustom to his jeers and had since learned to ignore the bait. Since she was at least fifty feet ahead of him, she probably didn't even hear his correction. "Hey Ziva, wait for me when you get to the crosswalk!" He shouted over the increasing wind.

He could practically hear her exasperated sigh as she slowed to a stop at the street corner to wait for him to catch up. As he did he inquired "Are you sure this is safe? Its dark so drivers can't see us, its icy and we could slip, the wind is getting stronger, I'm running out of complaints against this but you can see my point right?"

Another exasperated groan escaped her chapped lips as she explained, "We are both wearing reflective clothing so that drivers _can_ see us, once we get back, you can shower and warm up, and once we are done, there is no need to worry about the wind unless the power goes out, in which case we have candles. Do you have anything else to whine about or can we go back home?" She pointed indicating her apartment across the street and down the block.

"Oh, thank you merciful God!" He exclaimed, raising his hands upward as if in prayer. He slapped the button to activate the crosswalk and waited for the signal to cross. When it changed, he grabbed the back of Ziva's windbreaker, causing her to turn around and glare at him.

"What are you doing?" She demanded. The signal said it was alright to cross, what was the problem?

"See the way the pavement reflects the light from the street lamps? Black ice, something that you can't be too careful around." His voice was laced with concern, so she decided against verbally (or physically) eviscerating him.

"Black ice. That sounds like the name of one of Abby's CDS. I thought that ice was clear."

"It is. That's why you can't see it. Hence, 'black ice'."

"I still do not understand why Americans must label everything. Well, not even everything! When you go to the store, what is the name of the little plastic stick you place between your purchase and the next person's? No one knows, no one questions, they only label blindly. That applies to people as well!" She said as she started slowly across the street. After the first two or three steps, her feet began to slide across the ice.

"See?" Tony explained, "now aren't you glad you didn't just dash across the road?"

"Well, yes. Come on, let's cross before we have to wait for the next light." She would never admit to actually _needing _advice, but this time she was thankful for it. When he wasn't being a misogynistic, immature bonehead, he had his moments.

Tony walked ahead of her taunting "I said be careful, not ask a boy scout for help crossing the road Zee-Vah!"

She started to chase him down the street towards her apartment. There was no doubt that she would catch him in a matter of seconds, but the thrill of the chase was irresistible. At least, until she remembered the black ice. She landed hard on her back half way across the street. Tony was already on the other side still running ahead. As she eased herself onto her hands and knees, she heard Tony screaming.

"Ziva! Get out of the way!" she looked at him as if he were insane. He was frantically waving his arms running towards the crosswalk, screaming toward the oncoming lane. She turned her head to see what he was talking about, and saw a pair of headlights less than a foot from her face.

* * *

AN: Yes, I did a cliffhanger on my first fic, mostly because I don't know where I'm going with this. A little inspiration might help me update quicker... Suggestions? 


	2. Chapter 2

Tony hated hospitals. Even the very word, sounds too much like hostile. No where is this truer than in the ER waiting room. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife, and the silence is deafening. All around him, families waited anxiously to hear if their loved ones would live another day. The scent of disinfectant was so nauseating, he had to rest his head between his knees. That was probably why he didn't see the black blur that was Abby Scuitto rush by him.

"Tony! What happened? I'm sorry a thirty second voice-mail message, and a cryptic one at that doesn't help. 'Abby, Ziva was hit by a car, an ambulance is taking her to Bethesda. Don't panic, but let everyone else know what's going on.' Tell them what? You told me nothing! Where was she hit? How bad? Is she awake? Did she lose consciousness? How am I not supposed to panic?!" The tirade of the normally sweet and perky caffeinated goth was cut off by an abrupt slicing motion of Tony's hand.

"Abs, really, I don't know what to tell you. When she got hit," he paused to fight back the bile threatening to rise up in his throat, "she flew back about five feet to the sidewalk. The bastard didn't even slow down. If anything, he sped up. I checked for a pulse, called an ambulance, and called you."

Abby became uncharacteristically quiet as she took a seat beside her friend, enveloping him in a hug. "It wasn't your fault Tony." she told him softly, "You weren't the one who hurt her, you were the one who saved her life! I mean, how much traffic goes by at 5:30 in the morning? Okay, say, a car a minute! That sounds about right. Who knows how long it would have taken for her to get help if you hadn't been there."

Tony gave a deep sigh, "Yeah, maybe. Did you let the others know?" He knew that he would never hear the end of it if no one was informed. Gibbs might actually kill him.

"More or less." Abby said, "Gibbs didn't answer, but I left him a voice-mail. And before you look at me like that, yes, I have taught him how to use that 'beeping piece of crap', his words not mine. Everyone else said they'd come ASAP."

Staring down the corridor for ten minutes finally yielded some value. Gibbs, Ducky, McGee, and the Director all came toward the waiting room. They seemed morose and pensive. They took their seats next to Abby and Tony. Ducky was the first to break the deathly silence.

"Has there been any word on her condition yet, Anthony?" His voice was laced with worry, and he looked as though he had aged ten years.

"They took her into surgery, but other than that I don't know." Abby replied solemnly for him. Ever since the accident, Tony hadn't been feeling very loquacious.

Gibbs handed Tony a cup of coffee, hoping to get him to say something, or at least relax a little. "DiNozzo, what the hell happened? To her? To you?"

* * *

_The sound he heard that morning was something he could never erase from his mind. Just before the the collision, he heard Ziva scream. He had never heard a sound that ripped at his heart quite like that before. He watched the SUV speed away as Ziva's limp body came to a rest at his feet. Her head was bleeding a little trickle just above her brow. Her right arm was bent at an awkward angle, and her left ankle was a mangled mess._

_At first he couldn't tell if she was alive, much less conscious. But he heard her whimpering, and he knelt down beside her to take her hand. With his free hand, he fished around his pockets for his cell to call 911._

"_I need an ambulance, my friend was hit by a car and she's in really bad shape...No, I didn't get a license plate number, I kinda was focusing on making sure she was ALIVE!...Ten minutes?! That's ten minutes too long!...No I will not calm down!...Okay, ten minutes."_

_He felt Ziva's hand gently contract around his wrist. Looking down, he smiled knowing that she knew she wasn't alone. He brought her scratched and bloodied hand to his lips, praying that she could hold on for those agonizing ten minutes._

_He closed his eyes as he tried to think of the fastest way to inform the team. After a moment, it came to him, "Abby!" he shouted. Last year, she and McGee had a competition to see who could send the most text messages in a minute. Abby sent 42._

_He hastily dialed her number, and swore under his breath when he heard on the other line, "You've reached Abby the Forensics Queen Scuitto, squawk at the beep!" He gave a deep sigh and decided that leaving her a message would still be faster than calling everyone else, he blurted out, "Abby, Ziva was hit by a car, an ambulance is taking her to Bethesda. Don't panic, but let everyone else know what's going on."_

_He felt an overwhelming sense of relief when he heard sirens in the distance, growing steadily louder. After a brief look at his watch he realized that it had in fact taken 13 minutes. He turned his attention to Ziva, who had since opened her eyes to a squint. "Don't worry, they're coming for you." He soothed. Her lips curled into a small smile before she began to cough and wheeze. A rivulet of crimson formed at either side of her mouth._

_He turned his attention to the direction in which he had heard the sirens to see that the ambulance had already arrived, and the paramedics were gathering their things. "Hurry up! She's coughing up blood!" He shouted at them. He knew it wasn't the medics' fault, but it felt good to have someone to blame._

_Tony situated himself next to his partner in the back of the ambulance. She had been strapped down to the gurney and her neck was in a brace, but other than that she looked fairly comfortable. One of the paramedics gave her some morphine to subdue her until they got to Bethesda._

_About 15 minutes into the ride, she began to cough again, this time more violently. Tony shouted at the medics in hopes that they could help. The ambulance stopped and the back doors opened. She continued to hack up blood as they unloaded the gurney she was on. When Tony tried to follow, one of the medics stopped him telling him that this was as far as he could go._

* * *

  
A quick slap to the back of his head brought him out of his thoughts and back to reality. He turned his head and saw Gibbs sitting beside him offering him a cup of coffee, which he heartily accepted. "Thanks Boss." he muttered.

An elderly man in aqua scrubs walked down the hallway and into the waiting room with a chart in hand. He turned to the team and asked "Are you the family of Miss David?"

His response was a chorus of "Yes!"

The man gave a deep sigh before proceeding, "There's some good news, and some bad news."

* * *

AN: Another cliffhanger, I know, I know. But hey, who can complain about two updates in a day!? Not promising an update that fast again in the immediate future, but who knows. By the waymy summary is craptastic. If anyone can suggest a better one, put it in your review. Four reviews already! I feel all tingly inside! Also, do you want this to evolve into romance, or not? Review and speak your minds people! 


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Sorry for the slow update, homework over Christmas should be a sin! Merry Christmas all!

* * *

"She has fractures to her occipital bone, eight ribs, left tarsals and tibia, and her right ulna and carpals. The head trauma is moderate, she has a concussion and a mild hemorrhage, but surgical intervention could cause more harm than help at this point. One of her broken ribs has perforated her right lung, but thankfully surgery was able to correct the damage." the doctor explained as the faces of the team slowly blanched out all color. 

Gibbs interjected after a moment, "What does that mean in English, Doctor..." he glanced at the man's name tag "Stenson?"

Dr. Stenson went into detail, "The skull fracture is not too bad, but we'll keep a close eye on her vitals to check for signs of alarm. Her broken wrist and ankle are already set and cast, so those will probably heal on their own. What we are most concerned about is the internal damage caused by those ribs. While the punctured lung was repaired, she is at high risk for developing pneumonia, which in her condition could be fatal. She lost an appreciable amount of blood, and she is going to need to remain in the hospital for at least two weeks."

McGee felt a little tug at his heart, both from the fear of losing a dear friend, and seeing another cherished companion having a breakdown. Abby was clinging to his chest like a little child, her mascara running down her cheeks and onto his jacket. She continually whispered "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," in between sobs. McGee ran his hand down her back to mollify the poor girl. "Tim, the last thing I said to her yesterday was 'If you ever touch anything in my lab again, I'll kill you and leave no forensic evidence'. I got so mad at her, just because she knocked over and broke a beaker. What if that was the last thing I ever said to her?" He had no answer for her other than to hold her until her tears dried up.

"May we visit her Doctor?" Jen asked.

"No, not in her current condition. You may visit her tomorrow, presuming she makes it through tonight, which, mind you is no guarantee. I would honestly be shocked if she left the hospital alive."

"But you said the surgery fixed the damage to her lung, and her head injury wasn't too bad, and-" A slicing motion from Gibbs' hand cut Tony off before he could finish his sentence. "So you're saying that she might not survive the night, but her family can't see her, because we could make it _worse_?"

"Its hospital policy sir, I'm afraid my hands are tied." Dr. Stenson put on a show, but honestly didn't seem too distraught over this whole ordeal.

"What!? Wait a minute," Abby protested, having regained her composure, "She's not just a victim, she's evidence, and a part of our crime scene! If you don't let us in there, we can get a court order in like, minutes. Plus you could probably charged with interfering in our investigation, but we'll let that slide if you just let us in there. Or we can just handle this little problem after you get off work!" People often underestimated Abby's uncanny ability to intimidate, even if such a display was only a bluff. When faced with an angry tattoo clad woman wearing chains and spikes, most people are easily subjugated.

"If you are all her family, wouldn't that become a conflict of interest?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. They're family," she said, indicating Gibbs, Jen, Ducky, and McGee, "Tony and I are just here for the investigation."

Dr. Stenson seemed skeptical, but yielded eventually. "Alright, you two may collect your evidence, or whatever else you need to do to violate hospital policy, however the rest of you may not. If I find out otherwise, legal action will follow!" he said, clearly becoming exasperated. His beeper went off at his waist, "Excuse me, I need to go. Have a nice day!"

Abby turned to the team with a heavy heart, "Sorry guys, I didn't want him to get suspicious. Damn hospital policy, they'll let investigators in but not 'family'? Anyway, I only lied a little. We do need evidence if we're gonna get this creep right? Ziva won't give up that easily, especially if I tell her that you ordered her to stay alive until tomorrow, Gibbs!"

Gibbs smiled briefly, remembering how he had ordered Tony not to die of Y. Pestis. "Abby, you and Tony get in there before he changes his mind. McGee, you're coming with me to our crime scene. Duck, you wait here, call if there is any change." he ordered, "oh, Abbs?"

"Yeah, Bossman?" she replied with a left-handed salute.

He lowered her left hand, replaced it with her right, and told her, "Let Ziva know that if she dies, when I get up there, I'm going to kick her ass from then until eternity."

Abby grinned from ear to ear, "Sure thing. Tony! Come! Evidence!" She grabbed him by his collar and led him down the ghastly corridor. Once they were out of earshot, she stopped him. "Either there is something really interesting about your shoes, which by the way are really nasty looking," she said, indicating his blood-stained sneakers, "or there is something that you're not telling me."

He raised his head up to look into her eyes. He hadn't even realized that he was starring at his feet this whole time. "I don't know Abby, I just can't believe how fast this is happening. This morning, when we went out for a run, she was fine." he chuckled at the memory, "She outpaced me the entire time. Until we got to that damn intersection, and-" his voice choked and his eyes began to water. "Its my fault."

"No, no no! We've been over this. You saved her, there was nothing more that you could have done than you already have." she lamented, "need another hug?" She didn't even wait for his response before choking the life half-way out of him.

"Abbs, I taunted her so that she wold chase me. I told her that she needed a boy scout to help her cross the road and, well, no one insults her and gets away with it. She took off after me, and slipped on the black ice. If she hadn't fallen, she could have gotten out of the way in time. If she doesn't make it, her blood's on my hands. " he let loose a sigh before turning to a nearby trashcan to vomit. Abby came up behind him and rubbed his back.

"You love her, don't you?" she asked.

He rounded on her, "What would give you that idea? She can't love! Why would you think that? Did she tell you that?"

"No, she just told me you look down and to the left, and your nostrils flare when you lie." she grinned.

"MOAS?" he offered

"MOAS." she agreed, shaking his hand before heading down the hall.

"Oh, Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"Is 'Black Ice' the name of one of your rock bands?"

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

The sight of Ziva lying in that bed was heartrending. Machines and wires surrounded her small pale form. A tube slithered its way down her throat like a serpent. Her wrist and ankle were each bound in plaster, and her chest tightly bound in bandages. Tony tried to remind himself that in spite of how macabre it seemed, all the tubes, wires and bindings were saving her life. A young nurse was fiddling with her IV and seemed to be talking to her inert patient. Tony and Abby both noticed how much she reminded them of Ducky. She turned to the doorway and jumped in surprise to see the two standing there.

"Oh, are you Miss David's family" she inquired

"Uh, no. I though it was hospital policy not to allow families to see patients for twenty-four hours? I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, this is Abby Scuitto, our forensics expert, NCIS." Tony explained

The nurse rolled her eyes and sighed before returning to tend to her patient, "I suppose Dr. Stenson told you that? Well, I'm not surprised. As a medical professional, I have a great deal of respect for him, however he has no social capabilities. The actual hospital policy is that for two hours after surgery only family members are allowed in one at a time. Whenever he doesn't think a patient is going to make it, he doesn't let the family in until he knows they're in the clear."

"He doesn't give them a chance to say goodbye? What a butt!" Abby exclaimed

"No, don't be too judgmental. Last year, on Christmas Eve, he lost one of his patients. He had a four year old daughter who refused to leave her dad, clinging to his body for dear life. When the coroner came for the body, the girl's family try to pull her off her dad, but she said he was only sleeping and that he would help her open her presents tomorrow. She tried to follow the gurney down to the morgue. Dr. Stenson watched the whole thing. Ever since, he tries to avoid having to put families in that situation." The nurse explained.

"Wow, I can see the dilemma, but I can't imagine keeping a family from their loved ones." Tony said, taking a seat beside Ziva's bedside. On her other side, the nurse emptied a couple of vials into Ziva's IV. "What are you giving her?"

"One is a strong sedative to keep her in a medically induced coma, the other is an analgesic to help the pain." she replied

"What's her prognosis? And be honest, none of that 'she'll be alright don't worry' crap." Abby asked

"Well, when she was first brought in, none of us thought she stood a snowball's chance in hell. Right now though, she seems to be doing alright. Her vitals are stable, she's on antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, sedatives, basically half our pharmacy. We're going to keep her sedated for a while, which honestly is better for her. No talking is better for her lungs and ribs, no moving is better for her broken bones, and this allows her body to basically just recover. Humans weren't designed to be hit by cars you know." she explained, "Well, I need to tend to my other patients." she said as she turned to Ziva's still form, "You feel better now, alright?"

After the nurse left, Tony and Abby just sat there in those odd uncomfortable chairs which every hospital in America seems to have, in total silence. Neither one knowing what to say, or what to do. "Abbs, don't you have evidence to collect?" Tony finally asked

"Well, technically both of us do. Okay, we can do this. Evidence." Abby said with a hint of panic in her voice

There wasn't much to do. They photographed her injuries, but nearly everything else, all trace evidence, had been cleaned away by the hospital staff.

"Its not much to go on, but a picture says a thousand words. So, we've got twenty-thousand words, that mean what exactly?" Tony asked

"Tony, juries are supposed to remain objective. However every human being can be swayed with emotional stimuli. When you see this," Abby said, holding up one of Ziva's X-rays from her ribs, "what does your heart tell you? What do you ask yourself?"

"I wonder how someone could do this to another living person. I feel sympathy, and hate at the same time." he said

"Exactly. The bastard who did this, assuming he survives interrogation with Gibbs, is going to be locked away. I'm sure of it." she told him confidently, "Do you have a Sharpie?" she asked. It seemed to be an odd change of topic.

"I don't think so...why?"

"She has casts everywhere Tony! And look at them, they're naked! Casts should have little doodles and encouraging things written on them, not just sit there looking sterile and skyclad! Do you have a Sharpie?"

"No, why don't you ask the nurses, I'm sure they'll be happy to lend you one." he advised. With that, she skipped down the corridor, asking anyone and everyone for a Sharpie pen. Tony was finally alone with her, but he knew this privacy would be brief. He rummaged through his pockets, until he found his iPod, and placed one of the miniature speakers in Ziva's ear, the other in his.

"They say that coma patients can still hear what's going on around them. I hope so. I just want to say that I'm sorry for the suffering I've put you through. You don't need a boy scout to cross the street, I just wanted to mess with you a little," he fought back his tears, "I don't know what I'm going to do without you, even if its only temporary. I'll probably need to use a whole bottle of super-glue on the probie, but what fun is that without my partner in crime? I take that back, I'll use _two_bottles worth of super glue on McDweeb. One for me, one for you. How does that sound? I'll bring you pictures, so you won't get bored in the hospital."

He searched through his playlist, and found some songs for her. "Here we go, Coltrane, good old American music. I don't know if he's American, but his jazz sure is" He sat there with her for a while until the battery died nearly an hour later. He turned his attention to the doorway where Abby and Ducky stood watching the scene before them. He put his iPod away before addressing them.

"Hi guys. Abby, does it take an hour to find a Sharpie?" he teased. _Same old Tony_, Abby thought

"Sort of, I couldn't find one, so I went out to the waiting room to see if anyone had one. I think everyone forgot about Ducky, he was still waiting for news. Anyway, we were hungry, and we needed to drop off the evidence. So, we went to a drive through and swung by NCIS, where look, I found a Sharpie!"she rambled. Each of her sentences took about half the time that it would take anyone else to say them.

"Abigail has also had two Caff-Pows during our absence." Ducky informed his companion

Abby had already begun to doodle on Ziva's bindings. Considering the amount of caffeine in her system, she had a steady hand. She wrote "Get better, I'll hug you in my mind each and everyday!"

Duck took the Sharpie from her, and wrote various comforting quotes on her arm.

Tony couldn't think of what to write. For the first time in his life, he was lost for words. Looking back on all the time he had spent with her over these past years, he could only think of one perfect thing to say. He scribbled out, "I think I've seen this film."

* * *

AN: You like? 


	5. Chapter 5

The crime scene, a scarcely used intersection on the outskirts of DC, was quickly disappearing beneath the winter storm. The storm had been alternating between freezing rain and snow all morning.

"McGee, start shooting and sketching before we can't see the street!" Gibbs ordered. The roads were still wet enough that the snow hadn't begun to stick, but it was only a matter of time before the road would be covered in white.

"Uh, Boss! I found some skid marks here. Think Abby can find where they came from?" McGee asked

"I don't know, McGee. They might not even be from the same rig." Gibbs shouted over the increasing wind, "Why don't you ask Tony what it was?"

"What don't you ask Tony what 'what' was?" Tony asked, having just arrived in time to hear the end of their dialog

"The car that hit Ziva, DiNozzo," Gibbs told him, "color, size style, what did you see?"

"Some kind of dark colored SUV, Boss. Big one too. It was 5:30 in the morning though, so I can't tell you much more than that." he explained, "I kinda had other things on my mind." He received a slight tap on the back of his head.

"Care to explain what that was for?"

"Don't sell yourself short, DiNozzo," he told Tony "How's she doing?"

"In a coma, medically induced. You can go visit her once we finish up, sign her casts if you can find room. Abby went a little nuts." Tony explained, smiling at the memory of Abby drawing little happy faces all over Ziva's casts. It was a little hard to believe how close the two women had become, considering their rather rocky start.

"Abby, going nuts? What are you talking about? Not our Abby..." Gibbs muttered sarcastically

"Um, Boss? A little help?" McGee shouted. His hand was firmly attached to the flashlight in his hand, while with his free hand, he desperately tried to pry it loose.

Gibbs turned to Tony, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about this now, would you, DiNozzo?"

"Maybe its just the cold? I mean, if your tongue can freeze to a pole, the maybe your hand-" a slap quickly silenced him, "Shutting up now, Boss!"

Gibbs entered the lab, a cup of coffee strong enough to peel paint off a car in one hand, a Caff-Pow in the other. He was immediately greeted by a blast to his eardrums. He set both cups down and tapped Abby on her shoulder, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. 'Will you turn that noise off?' he signed to her.

She made her way over to her stereo, turning to him and signing back, 'no fun', before lowering the volume to a more tolerable level. "Hey, guess what? Tony was right! 'Black Ice' is a band, albeit an amateur one. What can I do for you, seeing as I'm probably not getting that," she said gesturing to the Caff-Pow, "unless I have something for you."

"Any idea who or what we're looking for?" he asked

"Well, it depends. McGee is looking for glue solvent. But I'm guessing you mean the SUV? Got it. There were four sets of tire marks. Two were from sedans, one from a motorcycle, one from an SUV. But honestly, there's no guarantee that the tire marks are from that vehicle! There are hundreds of SUVs in DC, and the odds that the one that hit Ziva also left that mark, are astronomical." she said. "The track is from a 2006 H3, not a cheap ride. There are fifteen in the tri-state area, but that's not really helpful, since we don't know if the track is related to the hit-and-run."

"Would it help if you didn't even need those tracks?" a voice said from the doorway. McGee held a video tape in his hand, which thankfully was now rid of the super-glued flashlight. "A video camera from the convenience store across the street caught the whole thing on film."

"Well then, lets see it McGee!" Gibbs ordered

The video was low quality, but you could still practically hear the bones crack. As Tony had described, the vehicle in question was a dark SUV, and the time of the accident was 5:32 AM. The collision was filmed from the front, allowing them to see the whole thing. They watched her slip and fall, and watched the impact.

"Can you make it any clearer? Zoom in on the license plate." Gibbs told them

A few key strokes later, a Virginia license plate was in clear view. After entering it in the DMV database, the owner of the vehicle's face popped up. "It _is_ a Hummer, navy blue. Ouch, no wonder Ziva's in a world of hurt. I mean, those things are killers, but they usually do so with greenhouse gases and-"

"Abs!"

"The rig is registered to a Michael Bronson. He lives out in Richmond...Uh oh." Abby said.

"What do you mean 'uh oh'? What's wrong?" Gibbs asked

"The car was reported missing last night." McGee reported, "Apparently it was stolen from the family driveway."

"McGee, bring him in. He still might know something. Good work Abby." he said, presenting her with her caffeinated treat.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: This chapter contains minor spoilers for "Kill Ari II" and "Hiatus I and/or II". You've been warned...

* * *

The next morning, Michal Bronson came in on his own accord, having been contacted by NCIS the previous evening. The man barely looked old enough to drive, much less afford the vehicle in question. He had agreed to facilitate the investigation in any way he could, as long as his lawyer was in attendance. 

_'Great',_Gibbs thought sarcastically, '_just what I needed first thing in the morning. Legal persons interfering with our investigation.' _He took a seat across from Bronson and his lawyer in one of the conference rooms.

"So, Mr. Bronson, what can you tell us about the disappearance of your Hummer?" Gibbs asked

"Well, I already told this to the local police, but if you guys can get me my rig back, alright. My wife and I were getting ready to head out and do some last minute Christmas shopping. It was like seven degrees outside, so I went outside to start up the car and let it warm up a little. I left the keys in the ignition with the doors locked, and I went inside to grab by coffee. Before I even added the sugar to it, I heard tires squealing out front, and my wife was shouting that someone stole the car. I know that you hear all the time about rigs getting stolen out of driveways like that, but it was locked up tight!" he explained, seeming very agitated

"Does anyone else have a key to your Hummer, Mr. Bronson?"

"Just me and my wife. Oh, and Kevin!"

"Who is Kevin?" Gibbs asked, trying to keep his temper in check

"My mechanic. I doubt he stole it though, the guy's like, in his eighties. He lives out up near Shenandoah State Park, he likes to keep to himself. Heh, I doubt the guy even knows what electicity is! Besides, he's a bit of a hippy. If he wanted a car, he'd steal some veggie-mobile, not a car which he believes is single-handedly killing the Earth."

"Can we have this Kevin's address? It might help us find whoever took your car." Gibbs asked, a little too politely

Bronson's lawyer finally interjected, "You don't have to disclose that information! Unless you have a court order, he won't answer that. There is nothing linking my client or his mechanic to your crime, Agent Gibbs!"

"It was his car, Kevin has a key. That doesn't have any merit?" Gibbs demanded, "If there are three keys to that rig, one with your client's wife, one that was presumably stolen with the car, and one that is as of yet unaccounted for. Do the math!" _I think Shakespeare was right, 'hang all the lawyers'!_

"1250 Meadowlark Lane. That's where you'll find Kevin." Bronson said, "The story about that hit-and-run is all over the news. If I hadn't left the car running, one of your agents wouldn't be in the hospital right now. The asshole who stole my rig needs what's commin' to him. I want this guy as bad as you do Agent Gibbs. I don't think Kevin's capable of grand-theft-auto or a hit-and-run, but if that leads you in the right direction, by all means, I don't need my mechanic that badly. Knock him around a bit, maybe you'll knock some sense into him!" he chuckled a little, "Kevin's a good guy, just not real bright. He probably doesn't remember me giving him the spare key."

"Thank you for your cooperation. We'll let you know if we find your vehicle, but you might not get it back until our forensics expert gets through with it. Right now, your missing rig is evidence." Gibbs explained.

"Alright then...Tell me, did you know the agent who got hit?" Bronson asked, "I know its not really my place, but I sort of feel responsible for this whole mess. I just want to go visit her in the hospital, make sure she's alright."

"Yeah, I know her. She's on my team. But I'm afraid I can't disclose that information to you, sir."

"Understood. Will you at least give her my apologies?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Don't apologize, its a sign of weakness." he told him.

* * *

Gibbs had finally worked up the courage to come here. He felt as though he were held back by his conscience, which didn't want him to believe that this was real. Unfortunately, this nightmare was all too real. In his heart, he wanted to keep his distance so that he wouldn't see her like this. But he remembered how she had come to visit him, even when he didn't remember her. He remembered her telling him how she'd killed her brother to save him. She helped him recover his lost memories, and he owed it to her to at least be there for her. 

It was only 4:30, but the room was already dark. Only the last shimmers of twilight filling the room from the window remained. McGee and Abby had fallen asleep in the chairs by Ziva's bedside, Abby's head flopped over onto McGee's shoulder while she snored softly. Gibbs couldn't help but grin. He looked over at the bed where Ziva still lay in a drug induced slumber. The steady beating of her heart monitor was encouraging, though he despised the sound. He had survived two comas, during both of which, he had heard the incessant beeping of those infernal machines the entire time.

"We're gonna get the bastard, Ziva," he whispered to her, "I promise. We already have a lead."

He sat there for a while in silence, "Its been nearly four days. Thinking about waking up anytime soon?" he sighed, "Just open your eyes whenever you're ready. We'll be here waiting for you, okay?"

He noticed on her casts, she was adorned with get well messages and doodles, several of them were likely from her contacts at the Embassy, because he couldn't read a word of it.He tried to find a bare spot to write something, but he didn't want to move her to find one.

"Look on her palm!" a groggy voice told him, "We left you a spot, Bossman." Abby nuzzled lazily into McGee's shoulder before falling asleep once more.

He carefully turned her arm so that her palm faced upward, revealing a bare patch which was circled with Sharpie. Around the perimeter, in Abby's hand was written 'Reserved for Gibbs!' several times.

He took a marker from his pocket, chuckling. He wrote out 'You're one hell of an agent, David. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise. You're one of us, and you know it. Feel better, that's an order!'


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Wow, I can't believe I have over 50 reviews! Thats about 50 more than I expected...Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, especially EmyPink and Jordan4Woody for all your help!

* * *

The blue sedan barely made it up into the snow covered hills. For the past half-mile, McGee had been admonishing Tony about forgetting to bring chains. The home, which was really more of a shack, of Kevin Wallace, soon came into view. There was a large barn about fifty yards from the house which seemed to be rotting away. The old barn had been converted into a makeshift garage.

"Finally!" Tony groaned as he parked the sedan, "So what exactly do we know about this guy?"

"According to Bronson, he's an eighty year old hippy mechanic. He is the holder of one of three keys to the vehicle in question, and he has a record." McGee said, flipping through his notes, "In 1962, he was arrested for indecent exposure and assault. So much for hippies being pacifists."

"Trust me Probie, you can't trust what you believe in this world anymore."

After knocking at the door three times, the two agents were about to head back. "Kevin! Federal Agents! We want to talk to you!" Tony shouted after each knock.

"Over here! What the hell do you want?" they heard a voice call from the deteriorating barn

As they made their way over, they could see the denim clad legs of a man, sticking out from under a red Chevy. "Hey, while your over there, can you lift the jack up?! My grandson was helping me out this morning, but he seems to have skipped out on me, and left an old man to die!" Kevin shouted, "I'll leave him trapped under a '72 Chevy for three hours, see how_he_ likes it!"

Tony cranked the jack up another three inches so that the man could slip out. His red face was marred with engine grease, and his gray hair was filled with dirt and grime. "You boys are men of the law right? What counts as justifiable murder around these parts?"

"No such thing sir." McGee told him

The old man sighed and took a swig from a bottle of Pepsi, "Well then, Mark's one lucky son-of-a-bitch. What can I do for you folks today?"

"Michael Bronson's Hummer was stolen on Friday. He said that you have one of the keys for it. Do you know where that key is now?" Tony asked politely

The man stumbled a little as he walked over to a locked chest over on the work bench. "My clients usually give me a key, that way its less trouble when they need work done on it. Bronson you said? I don't have a key for him, its not here."

"Its _not_! Why isn't it? Aren't you the one responsible for keeping it safe? Your clients should be able to trust you!" Tony erupted. McGee placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down before he did anything drastic. He took a deep breath, "I'm sorry sir, its been a rough week. Does anyone else have access to your key box?"

"It stays in the house when I'm not working out here. There's a bit of a break in the weather, so this is the first time I've been able to work in the past few days. The only other person who would ever have access is my grandson, but he ain't real bright. He doesn't have a key to the lock box, either. Even if he could get it open, he wouldn't know what key goes with what car! I can't even keep them straight, thats why I keep this." he took a photo album out of a drawer in his work bench. When he opened it, they could see that each page consisted of color photos of vehicles, all of which were labeled by last name. "This way I know what key goes to what car and what person." he explained.

He flipped to the "B" section of clients. His list of clients was quite extensive considering how isolated this location was. "Boy, I need to clean this thing out. You see that Mustang? That belonged to Mr. Robbins, the guy died in Vietnam! Good man...Here's Bronson, now why's the picture missing?"

Tony and McGee glanced at each other. Kevin shook his head, "Now I know what you're thinking. That Mark stole the key and used it to take the car on a joyride, or something. The boy ain't right but he'd never do anything like that. He enlisted in the Navy last year, and he's really turned his life around. Once I die, he's taking over the business for me."

"Where can we find your grandson?" McGee asked

"He lives in my attic. He's trying to save up enough to move out."

"Mind if we go have a little chat with Mark?" Tony asked, "Relax, we don't have a warrant for him or anything, we just want to talk to him."

"Go ahead and see, but I haven't seen him since he left me stuck under that damn truck! He lowered the jack and ran off."

Tony and McGee exchanged glances once again. While the old mechanic was only trying to protect his grandson, he was interfering with their investigation, and quite frankly was not helping Mark's case at all.

"Well, we'll go and see if he's up there, if he is we'll talk to him. If not, give us a call when you see him, or if there's anything else you want to tell us." McGee said, handing him his card

"This is about more than a missing SUV, isn't it?" Kevin asked wearily

"The vehicle in question was involved in a hit-and-run Saturday morning." Tony told him, "It was stolen the night before, and right now thats missing evidence."

* * *

The house was old and smelled musty, but it somehow felt homey. The walls were adorned with old family portraits. The stairway leading to the second story creaked with each step and threatened to give way at any time. The second floor was little more than a narrow hallway with two doors. From the ceiling dangled a cord, the tell-tale sign of an attic. Tony noticed a corn bristled broom in the corner, and grabbed it. He used it to strike the area near the cord several times. "Mark! Can you come down here! We just want to talk!"

They waited for a few moments before pulling the cord, and allowing the step ladder to fall at their feet. The attic was a moldy pigsty. Dirty clothes, plates and magazines of various genres littered the floor. Only one area of the room was clean, a meticulously made futon near the open window. The place seemed to be deserted.

"It never looks good when they run." McGee remarked

"Hold it!" a foreign voice shouted from the shadows. Tony and McGee turned to see a young man who had just come up from the second story, gun in hand, "No one move!"

* * *

AN: Sorry about the cliffhanger, I couldn't resist...Thanks again for all your reviews guys! I have a_ ton_ of homework that I have to do by the end of break, so I might not be able to update as quick as you want me to. But please be patient with me, and I'll update ASAP. 


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Sorry for the slow update! Oregon keeps getting these nasty windstorms that either knock out power, Internet, or both! Also, sorry for the short chapter, I'll have another one up in a day or so. Only a few more chapters to go! Thanks to all my reviewers!

* * *

The decrepit attic was now the scene of a standoff. For what seemed like an hour, three guns were drawn waiting in silence. The gun in the hand of Mark Wallace continually changed targets from Tony to McGee and back. As the standoff continued, his movements became erratic and hasty.

"Mark, we just want to talk to you. We have no intention of shooting you," McGee said. He heard Tony chuckle a little at his last statement. Tony wasn't a very dark person, however his emotions frequently clouded his judgment, such as they did when Kate died. McGee knew that if given the chance, Tony likely would shoot him. "Two against one isn't a wise fight to pick. Lower your weapon!"

"Let's put it another way. You are currently a suspect for grand-theft-auto, hit-and-run, and now you're trying your luck by threatening two NCIS agents. What the hell are you thinking? You can lower your weapon now and cooperate, or we can shoot you." Tony stated bluntly, "You're in a world of trouble my friend."

"You already said I'm pretty much screwed! What more do I have to lose?" Mark hissed, "Besides, you're trespassing. I have every right to shoot you!"

"Your grandfather said we could come up to talk to you. And technically, he owns the property, so we aren't trespassing." McGee explained, "Last chance, lower your weapon!"

After another moment of deafening silence, Mark began to slowly lower his weapon. Tony and McGee followed after a few seconds. "See? That could have ended-" Tony was cut of by the all too familiar sound of a gunshot. Another three rounds followed immediately after, as Tony fell to the ground.

"Tony!" McGee called out, crouching beside his fallen comrade, "You okay?"

Tony let out a long groan as he tried to sit up, only to be forced back down again. McGee pressed down forcefully on the proliferating red pool on his partner's right shoulder. "Did you shoot the bastard?" Tony asked between groans

"Yeah, he's dead"

Tony sighed, either out of relief or pain. "Good boy, Probie! Did you call a medic?" He did not receive an answer. "McGeek! Did you call for help?!"

"On it Boss, I mean, Tony!" he stuttered as he fished around for his phone. After he hung up he turned to Tony, who was once again trying to sit up. Having pushed him onto his back once more he told Tony, "Five minutes."

"You know, for an enlisted man, he was a lousy shot! I mean, we were what...fifteen feet away? And he hits my shoulder! He couldn't have hit anywhere covered in DragonSkin!" Tony griped

"Tony, only you could be complaining about not getting shot somewhere more vital."

* * *

Upon arrival at Bethesda, Tony was quickly taken in for evaluation. The bullet had gone through his shoulder, and exited on the other side. Apart from the ample blood loss and needing surgery to repair the damaged muscle, his prognosis was promising.

Out in the waiting room, McGee sat patiently with Abby, waiting for any news. He kept playing the whole thing over in his mind. He killed Mark Wallace. "_No!"_ he told himself _"he killed himself the moment he pulled the gun."_

McGee had called Gibbs once they reached the hospital. He and Ducky were currently at the crime scene recovering Mark's bullet ridden body. Even speaking over the phone, in his mind's eye he could picture Gibbs' face turning red.

* * *

"_Damn it! What the hell happened, McGee! You and Tony were supposed to talk to the mechanic. How did toy manage to turn a simple questioning into a standoff?" Gibbs demanded._

"_Jethro!" McGee heard a familiar feminine voice admonish,"Let me speak to him." On the other line, McGee could hear his Boss' exasperated sigh as he reluctantly gave up the phone. "Don't worry about it McGee. We'll get this mess cleared up eventually. Let us know as soon as you find out about Tony."_

"_Yes ma'am!" he told the Director_

"_And you leave Jethro to me, alright? You did nothing wrong, McGee." she calmly told him before hanging up_

_At least she would deal with Gibbs. In many ways, he was like a pit bull. Sweet and loyal, unless provoked. In which case, nothing you could say or do would help you._

* * *

Abby tapped his shoulder, dragging him out of his reverie. "Didn't you hear him? Timmy, you really need to learn to loosen up a little. I know you're stressed, I mean, we all are! He said that Tony's all stitched up, and we can see him."

"Oh! Well, that's good I suppose." he muttered

"Timmy, this is beyond good, this is sinfully sweet! They put him in room 34! Don't you get it?" she squealed with delight

"Um, no not really. What's so special about room 34, its just an ICU room isn't it" he asked, completely dumbfounded

"That's Ziva's room too!" the Goth replied with an evil grin


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Sorry for one of the longest updates in FanFic history: ( I'll try to update more often! Enjoy...

* * *

Abby and McGee found themselves in an all too familiar hospital room once again. Two of their close companions lay soundly in medicated slumbers in their beds. Thankfully Tony's wound wasn't too severe. He had lost quite a bit of blood, however the bullet cut through a path that narrowly missed his clavicle. The doctors estimated he'd remain in the hospital for a week, before being released to bed rest, and eventually desk-duty. Abby sat down on the edge of his bed, tucking him in with a mammoth jet black teddy bear with red eyes, which was adorned in spiked jewelry and Gothic makeup.

"Sorry, you can't have Bert. I kinda already lent him to Ziva, and well, she was here first." she apologized, "But you can have Herman to keep you comfy!" She contently watched her friend sleep. The surgeon had told them that the anesthesia would wear off in about two hours, and she intended to be there for him when he awoke.

"Abigail, Dear Lord! What is that creature?" a voice called from the doorway

"Oh, hi Ducky! This is Herman!" Abby cheerily replied as Ducky removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily

"Herman is the stuffed bear that Abby spent an hour, and fifty dollars trying to win at the county fair." McGee clarified, "After that, we called in backup." He gestured over to Ziva's pale form. "It was one of those absurdly impossible shooting games. Ziva hit every target and won Abby four movie tickets, a paddle-ball, a smiley-faced bean bag chair, and 'Herman.'"

Ducky couldn't help but chuckle. He could imagine the look on that poor sap's face after Ziva won those prizes effortlessly in a game which is flawed by design. "Ziva, my dear, you are many things. But patient and subtle, you are not." he moved to the foot of her bed and picked up her chart.

"Uh, Ducky? Isn't looking at that, you know, illegal?" McGee stuttered, "I mean, isn't doctor-patient confidentiality an issue here?"

"Timothy, under any other circumstances, yes. However I happen to be her personal physician, so I doubt that she would mind." he told the younger man as he took an empty chair beside her bed, "Well, what have we here? Apparently, your doctors have seen some significant improvement, Ziva! Or at least, they feel that a medically induced coma is no longer beneficial. They took her off the sedatives this morning."

"So, she's going to wake up soon?" Abby asked hopefully

"We'll see. Since she has been through quite an ordeal, she may remain in a coma for a while. Her body will tell her when it's the right time for her to wake up."

"Well, it looks like that time is right about now Ducky!" McGee whispered

The group turned their attention to Ziva's once sleeping form. Her eyelids trembled, and her unbound hand was twitching. Ducky took her hand in his own, "Abigail, go and fetch Dr. Stenson for us, if you would be so kind." He felt her fingers begin to curl around his hand.

Abby returned a moment later with Dr. Stenson in tow, all the while asking him various questions. "Is she really awake, or just dreaming? Is she in pain? Can you give her something to help?"

"Abby! Just let the doctor do his job, okay? He'll take good care of her." McGee assured

The three cleared out into the hallway for a few moments, to allow Dr. Stenson to evaluate Ziva's condition, and run a few tests. Abby was bouncing around like it were Christmas, "Did you see her move? I mean it wasn't much, but she broke a lot of bones, and is probably hurting and-"

"Abs!" a stern voice commanded, causing her to stop and spin on her heels, "What's going on? Aren't you two supposed to be processing the evidence and looking for that car?!" he demanded from Abby and McGee

"Um, technically? Ducky should be doing an autopsy on Mark Wallace, McGee should be checking around for our missing SUV, you should be taking Kevin Wallace's statements, and I should be processing evidence. No one's really doing what they 'should' be doing, but right now half your team is hospitalized, we have been on the job for...fifty...something-ish hours straight, and there are more important things, Gibbs!"

The team leader gave a hearty sigh. He knew that this case had taken its toll on his team physically, emotionally, and psychologically. His team was ridden with unwarranted guilt, pain, and a sense of hopelessness. As strange as it sounded, being in this hospital gave them a sense of purpose that was more important than their jobs. Everyone of them felt an urge to be there for each other in uncertain times. He drained the last of his seventh cup of the day.

"Abby has had twelve Caff-Pows, Boss." McGee clarified, "This morning."

"Oh, and Bossman? Ziva's awake!" Abby added quickly, causing Gibbs to do something he had never done in his entire life. He spit out his coffee.

* * *

The team had gathered around Ziva's bed. She was awake, if one could call it that. Her eyes would close for a few seconds every so often, and she barely said two words to them. Her ribs were still tightly bound, making it painful to breath, much less speak. The doctor said that she would spend the next two weeks or so in the hospital, and need to stay on bed rest for another few weeks after that. In spite of her weakened state and strong pain, she seemed grateful for their presence, smiling when she had the energy. After a few minutes, the nurses asked them to begin to wrap up their visit. Just as she closed her eyes, the familiar sound of a flatulating hippo filled the room. She reached behind herself and procured Bert from the pillows. Ziva laughed so hard she cried with pain.

"Oh, Ziva I'm really, really sorry! I thought it would make you feel better, not make your ribs hurt." Abby lamented as she repeatedly pressed the button on the morphine drip

"Abby, that thing only is rigged to give medicine at appropriate intervals, and only then the amount the doc sets. She can't get another dose, no matter how many times you push that thing." Gibbs explained. He knew all too well about the workings of these hospitals.

"Oh, can I keep pushing it anyways if it makes me feel better?" Abby asked, though she had already begun to do so.

"Only if you want to piss off the nurses by jamming it." Gibbs told her

Within a few moments, Ziva had fallen asleep again. Abby had tucked Bert under her uninjured arm this time, rather than behind her head. The team just sat there quietly watching over her. In spite of their conflicts, they regarded one another as family. A scream sounded from across the room, breaking she somber silence. Gibbs remembered that scream all too well from their misadventures in Gitmo, and simply rolled his eyes while the others jumped out of their skins.

"Abby!" Tony exclaimed from his bed, holding the macabre plush away from himself with his good arm. "What the hell is that freaky thing?!"

* * *

AN: Okay, probably not medically accurate, but I need to move along the story a little. Reviews are always appreciated, be they criticism or praise, but whoever keeps PMing me with flames (you know who you are), please stop!!! I'm 15, I'd like to think I'm allowed to screw up a little! 


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Okay, writers block is killing me, so the next chapters are mostly filler and fluff on reader request! Oh, I can't believe I forgot!!! I DO NOT OWN OR CLAIM TO OWN NCIS!!! I do however own the first season on DVD: ) Enjoy y'all!

* * *

"McGee! Tell me you've got something!" Gibbs barked

Gibbs was in rare form today. Whenever the lives of his team members were in jeopardy, he would fight to the death to protect them. However this time was different. He felt as though he had failed them. He hadn't been there to protect Ziva from the oncoming vehicle, and he hadn't been there to protect Tony from taking a bullet. The doctors had assured him that with time and proper care, both of them would in all likelihood make a full recovery. But that was beside the point. He didn't regret not being there to protect them nearly as much as he regretted the fact that McGee killed the bastard before he could get to him. _No one messes with my team._

"Um, yeah. We got a hit on the BOLO. A used car dealership reportedly has a navy blue H3 sold to them by a mechanic three days ago. License plate matches out missing rig." McGee reported

"I want that vehicle in Abby's garage within the hour!" Gibbs commanded as he marched toward the elevator.

"Already on the way here, Boss!"

* * *

Halfway down the elevator shaft Gibbs flicked the emergency brake on. He paced the interior of the metal box several times like a caged lion. After a few laps, he lashed out and kicked the wall, leaving an appreciable dent in the chrome paneling. _How could this happen? If he hadn't hit Ziva, Tony wouldn't have been shot trying to arrest him. And Ziva wouldn't have been hit if that bastard hadn't gotten behind the wheel of a stolen rig for a joyride. It all could have been prevented. Should have been prevented._

Finally, his boiling rage cooled to a simmer and he headed down to Autopsy to check up on Ducky. He and Palmer were still in the early stages of the autopsy, so Gibbs knew Ducky probably had no answers for him yet. "Well Duck, you got anything yet?"

"Please Jethro, the dead tell their tales, but not all on one breath. Or so to speak." Ducky replied, "However we do have quite a predicament."

"I don't like hearing that, Ducky" Gibbs cautioned

"No, I didn't think that you would. Have a look over here." Ducky said, indicating the illuminated tooth X-Rays on the wall, "Here are Mark Wallace's known tooth structure, from his dental records. Here are the teeth of the young man on my table."

"They don't match." Gibbs stated

"They aren't even close! Abigail also checked his DNA and fingerprints to verify my theory. This man is not Mark Wallace." Ducky replied, "I have no idea who this man is, or why he would want to shoot Anthony, but what I can tell you is that we may still be looking for a suspect."

"What do you mean 'may'?"

"We have no proof that Mr. Wallace was the driver of that vehicle. All we have is testimony, reasonable suspicion and your gut."

"Since when has my gut been wrong, Duck?"

* * *

When Gibbs entered Abby's lab, he had expected to be blasted by her latest album blaring at an unreasonable volume. However her lab was deathly silent. There was no music, no clicking of keyboard keys, nothing. Also absent, was Abby. He searched around her sanctuary and found her curled up asleep on the futon behind her desk.

"Abs." he whispered, tapping her shoulder

Her eyes opened at once, "Sorry Gibbs. I haven't slept in, like, 36 hours. I tried taking a bat-nap, that's what Ziva calls them, but I can't sleep without Bert! I miss him Gibbs! But when I try to tell myself that Bert's needed more by Tony and Ziva, I just keep reminding myself that they're hurt and I can't help them! And if I try to convince myself that they're okay, I want my Bert back! Does that make me a bad person?"

Gibbs sighed and sat next to her not the futon, allowing her to lay her head on his shoulder. "Abs, this isn't really about Bert, we both know that." he told her, "Right now, the best thing that you can do for them is to solve the case for them. And if not that, take care of yourself. Go home. Sleep. Be back here at 0800, and we'll start over with a clean slate. Okay?"

"Okay, but first," she said standing with a little difficulty. Platform boots were unstable footwear at any time, but when sleep deprived, she could barely stay standing. "We have the wrong guy. Well, sort of. We know he shot Tony, but we don't know if he had anything to do with the hit-and-run. Dental records, fingerprints, and DNA all say this is not Mark Wallace."

"Well, then who is the son-of-a-bitch?" Gibbs asked, still sitting on Abby's futon

"Patrick Henry. But I don't think he's the type to say, 'Give me Liberty, or-"

"Abs! American history later, case now!"

"Sorry, couldn't resist! He's a Dutch citizen here on an expired work Visa. Immigration has been trying to get a hold of him for like a month now. He's suspected of bank robbery in New Jersey, other than that, his record is squeaky clean." she reported, "And before you ask, I have his last known address, and I sent it to McGee."

Gibbs gave her a quick peck on the cheek, "Good work. Now go to bed."

"Yes sir!" she saluted, knowing full well that he despised being called "sir."

He corrected her British style salute before he too, retired for the evening. He walked into Ducky's morgue, grabbed one of those foam pillows, and lay down on a vacant table. "Goodnight, Jethro!" he heard Ducky call from the next table over

"'Night Duck!"

* * *

AN: Yes, there is a MAJOR difference between British and American salutes. Not in the way it looks really, but don't do a British salute in America. Just don't. Next chapter will be up in a few minutes, sit tight! By the way, does anyone know what those foam things that are used as pillows for the cadavers (and occasionally Gibbs) are called? I'm just curious. 


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Here's a sort of fluffy Tivaish chapeter. Not really much plot involved here folks. I've never written fluff before so tell me how it goes. Voila!

* * *

Tony sat up in bed trying to pass the time. In spite of the various drugs circulating through his system, he was wide awake. He glanced over at the clock display on the wall which read 1:32AM. _It's late. Or early. Whichever it is. Where do you draw the line?_

By the time the display read 2:00, Tony had learned that the floor was inlaid with 49 tiles, and every third tile was red in contrast with the remaining pale blue, the ceiling had four fluorescent lights, and the curtain around his bed was held up with 25 rings. He noticed something new on his nightstand as well, a well thumbed copy of _The Complete Works of William Shakespeare._ He assumed that the dusty old tome was from Ducky, to keep him occupied. _Yeah, I'll be in the hospital for another two weeks, and I'm going to spend it reading poetry...right._

He was met with the sudden realization that he wasn't alone in this sterilized hell. He dragged himself out of bed and lumbered over to Ziva's bed, pushing his IV stand along with him. The serpentine tube had been withdrawn from her throat and Bert the flatulent hippo was tucked under her arm. It warmed his heart to see that she was healing. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully, a small smile would etch across her visage every so often. He sat down in the chair beside her; now unrestricted by visiting hours, he could stay here with her all night.

"Mr. DiNozzo!" a shrill voice called from the hallway, "What the hell do you think you're doing, up and about in your condition. Get into bed, _now!_"

He rolled his eyes lethargically. Pam, the nurse who was on graveyard that night, had been riding him all night. And not in the fashion he preferred. She had confiscated the GSMs that Abby had hidden for him under his pillow, his iPod, and his harmonica, which McGee had only brought him so that he could annoy the faculty. Conceding to Pam's will he climbed into bed beside Ziva, who then began to stir.

"You didn't specify who's bed to get into," he replied with a grin.

Ziva opened her eyes and realized that she wasn't alone. She instinctively reached for her Sig under her pillow, only to find that it wasn't there. She faced her intruder, only to find that the nuisance, while irritating, meant her no harm. "What are you doing in my bed?" she murmured lazily.

"Mr. DiNozzo, do not harass the other patients! If you would be so kind, get into_your _bed!" the woman commanded. Pam did not appear threatening at first glance. She was a short, elderly, blond woman, but she had a temper like a tigress.

As Tony began to reluctantly climb out of Ziva's bed, Pam came over to check on her. "How are you feeling?" she asked in a tone much sweeter than the one she'd used with Tony. "_Sexist"_ Tony thought to himself.

"I've felt better." she mumbled, "How long have I been in here?"

"Nine days." the nurse replied, "You're lucky to be alive, but you seem to be making steady progress. What might I ask is that thing?" she asked, indicating Bert

"Oh, his name is Bert." Ziva explained. She had never understood why that flatulent creature was so dear to Abby, but the fact that she had been entrusted with Bert meant that Abby considered her to be a dear friend.

"Is this, Bert, hygienic?" Pam asked sceptically

"Sure, why not!" Tony told her, earning himself a glare from Pam. "And how can you say no to that face?" He asked the nurse, using big puppy dog eyes, and shoving Bert's face inches from hers.

"The damn plush can stay, but I don't like it." Pam told the two. "Both of you should get some rest."

As Pam turned to leave, Tony aimed Bert's rear end at her, and squeezed the hippo. The loud fart that resulted made Pam jump, and earned Tony another glare that could melt steel.

After she'd left, Tony sat down on the edge of her bed. "Abby'd kill me if anything should happen to that stupid thing. Are you feeling any better?" he asked taking her hand in his

"Sore, but alive. It still hurts to breathe." she told him as she tried to sit up. Tony gently but firmly pushed her back down into bed.

"I've been there, Ziva." he said remembering his near fatal encounter with Y. Pestis, a time when he too found breathing painful. "It's going to get better though." he soothed, pressing the button on her morphine drip

"What are you doing here?" she whispered

"Visiting you. What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied with a smirk

"No, I mean, why are you in a hospital gown, connected to an IV, and being told that you shouldn't be up and about 'in your condition'" she asked. Tony noted that her heart monitor showed an increase in her pulse as she spoke

"I'm alright Ziva, really. It was just a graze." he told her in an attempt to sooth her fears. He pulled up his sleeve to show her his bandaged wound, "See? All taken care of."

"You were shot?!" she asked, her voice rising in pitch

"Don't worry about it. It's been 36 hours since then, and they might let me go in a couple days."

Ziva seemed to calm down a little, seemingly embarrassed by her emotional outburst. "When do you think they'll let me out of here?"

He sighed. He knew she felt helpless, but being in here was the best thing for her right now. She still was in a lot of pain, and was as weak as a kitten. "Not for a little while. But don't stress over it. McGee killed the bastard who did this to you. And me." he added, looking down at his feet, "You're right though. You shouldn't be in here, neither of us would be in here if I hadn't-"

She pressed her finger to his lips and cut him off mid-sentence. "I do not blame you for this Tony. No one does. Anything that you possibly could have done to contribute to this mess is long since forgotten."

"I'm so sorry Ziva. This never should have happened."

She wiggled her forefinger, beaconing him closer. As he came closer, she scooted over to let him sit down. She only made it over a few inches before it became too painful. He sat down next to her, just holding her for a while, letting her rest in his arms. He couldn't protect her before, but he would do everything within his power to help her through this. "Hey, do you like Shakespeare?" he finally asked

He moved over to his nightstand to retrieve the massive tome. As he flipped through the pages, he made a face. "Is something wrong?" Ziva asked from her bed

Tony poked his head out the door to check for Pam. Once he was sure that the coast was clear, he moved to her bed and closed the curtain around them. "Ducky hollowed out Shakespeare! Ducky! Can you imagine?" he whispered, "That's not what I'd expect from him, but man, I love him for it!"

"What did he fill it with? A gun?" Ziva asked, curiously trying to peek at the pages

"No, Spygirl. Ducky didn't give me a gun." he said, opening it for her to see. A portable DVD player was hidden in the core of the book, along with_Casino Royal, You Only Live Twice, The Spy Who Loved Me,_ all three _Austin Powers_ movies, and all the classic _Bond _films. "Where do you want to start?" he grinned

"How about we start with Pussy Galore?" she asked, feigning innocence at the double-entendre

He slipped the DVD into the player, and nested himself into Ziva's bed. She leaned back into his arms, resting her head on his uninjured shoulder. He thought to himself, "_I need to get shot more often!"_

* * *

AN: Review? Constructive criticism is welcome, flames are not. I still have no beta, so the position is available! 


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Sorry about the slow updates, my health hasn't been real great for a while. I have no knowledge of hospital procedure, or medicine. I got an A in my first aid class and watch Scrubs, and that is the extent of my medical knowledge. Any errors are out of ignorance, no offense is meant toward anyone in the medical field. Thanks to all of my reviewers, I'm hugging you all in my mind right now!

* * *

Ziva woke up feeling unusually comfortable. Though it was mid-winter, a time when she normally felt chilled to her bones, she felt pleasantly warm. Another perk she noticed that morning was that the sharp aches that had plagued her body the night before were gone. The early morning sunlight had already begun to bleed into the room, illuminating her bed. Given the time of year, that meant it was at least seven o'clock. _I slept in late too, what has happened to me? A little bruising and a few broken bones and I turn into a chimp! _She knew in her mind that that wasn't right, but she didn't care. No one would correct her.

Looking around, she noticed that Tony was gone. Probably sleeping in his own bed. She vaguely remembered falling asleep in his arms after watching a pen explode on a foam dummy. That or it was a highly illogical dream. Bert still remained at her side, ever vigilant. She watched the shadows of small birds in flight dance across her curtains. The bitter winter storm had finally ceased, and spring was threatening to impose early. Just as soon as the birds had flown away, the curtains parted and a familiar face locked eyes with her.

"You're up early." Gibbs whispered to her, taking a seat in a vacant bucket, his term for the uncomfortable chairs holding court in every hospital in the known world. "Are you feeling any better?"

"One, I am still confined to this sterilized day-care, so no I'm not better. And two, this is the latest I've ever slept!" she told him, her voice fading as she spoke. She hadn't realized how much energy speech took.

"You're hurt, its kinda expected for you to sleep a lot. If you're in pain I can go get a nurse for you?" he offered

"No! No nurses..." she rushed, "What are you doing here? Tony told me that McGee killed the man who was responsible. Generally, that means hours of paperwork."

He smiled at her. Her intuition was often frighteningly accurate. _How much should I tell her? It probably won't help her stress to know that the man who nearly killed her may still be at large. And after that letter this morning..._

* * *

_ Gibbs had come into the office at an ungodly hour. He went home at around midnight, then worked on his boat for several hours, hoping to tire himself out. Finally, he gave up. After stocking a day's worth of coffee, he returned to the Naval Yard. _

_In the Bullpen, he found McGee hunched over his keyboard sleeping. He placed a cup of coffee under his nose, waving the scent toward him to rouse him from his slumber._

"_Coffee...?" McGee mumbled. He slowly straightened up. Upon seeing Gibbs six inches from his face, he bolted upright. "Morning, Boss! Um, is that for me?"_

_He got no answer, only the cup placed on his desk. "Ah, thank you! The late Patrick Henry had been staying in a hotel in Fairfax, nothing out of the ordinary. Another team was out there on a false report and took care of that housekeeping. However, things are about to get worse."_

"_I don't like to hear, 'worse,' McGee." Gibbs cautioned_

"_No, I know that. Abby checked out the Hummer. Blood was all over the grill, but someone tried to clean it up with some bleach. Blood type matched Ziva's, AB negative, but we're still waiting for DNA. We might not be able to get viable DNA, because of the bleach. AB negative is pretty rare, so its most likely hers. Abby found Wallace's fingerprints all over the interior, as well as a healthy supply of marijuana." McGee reported, flipping through his notes. "We still don't know where he is, but we have a problem."_

"_What? Can you ever just come out and say something, McGee?!" Gibbs barked, "Are my people in danger or not?"_

"_Only in the sense that they're being threatened. This note came in the mail this morning."_

_Gibbs glanced over the note, written in newspaper clippings in true ransom note fashion:_

"NCIS: Drop all charges, or your agents die. This was all just a misunderstanding. Either I see the shreds of that file in P.O. Box 117 by noon, or I'll slit their throats: Her and loverboy."

_A picture of Tony and Ziva sitting in bed together watching a movie was attached with a paper-clip. On the photograph, the date and time were visible. The picture was from less than two hours earlier. _

"_Damn!" Gibbs swore, "Call Bethesda, get extra security around their room until we get there! We've got less than three hours to get them out of that hospital!" _

_Gibbs headed quickly down to autopsy, running down the stairs rather than wait for the elevator. "Duck, we've got a situation!" he bellowed_

_Ducky, Abby,Palmer, and Director Sheppard were all gathered down in autopsy, "We know, Jethro. And we have a plan." Jen calmly explained to him_

"_Anthony and Ziva are in potentially grave danger, but the nature of their injuries makes removing them from the hospital a dangerous maneuver." Ducky explained, "A hospital cannot guarantee their safety. I just cannot see how they could provide adequate protection for them. However, tight-knit procedure may stand in our way."_

"_So, we have a plan. Ducky not only has a medical license, but over thirty years of experience! If we can convince the hospital staff to declare them dead, Ducky will come to collect their bodies, then we could set up a safehouse, and have Ducky take care of them there until we catch this bastard!"_

"_Abigail, language!" Ducky softly scolded, "Their current physician, Dr. Stenson, is a former colleague and associate of mine. He also holds high status in that hospital, being a close friend of the chief of medicine. I may be able to persuade him to play along with this little charade. Additionally, he still owes me from when I helped him out of a particularly sticky situation, regarding a former lover."_

"_Do it!" Gibbs said as Ducky picked up the phone_

_After a lengthy conversation, mostly arguing over procedure and protocol, Ducky gave them a thumbs-up. "Thank you, Doctor!...We will be there shortly to pick them up...Has additional security been in place around their room?...Excellent!...Thank you again Doctor. And you have my condolences about 'losing' two of your dear patients." he hung up the phone, feeling quite content_

"_At 2200 last night, Miss David was overcome with pnumonia, resulting from her preforated lung. In spite of the hospital's best efforts, she passed away this morning. Poor girl died in her sleep. As for young Anthony, his bullet wound, so close to his heart, became infected. The infection spread to his heart and lungs, resulting in his demise." Ducky reported with false meloncholy. _

"_Jethro, do we have a suitable safehouse?" Jen asked_

* * *

"Gibbs? Is everything alright? You sort of splanked out there for a moment. Are you okay?" Ziva inquired

He noted her quickening pulse and her eyes searching his own for answers. "You mean, either spaced out or blanked out, Ziva." he corrected out of habit, "We have a bit of a problem."

"What's wrong? Half our team is hospitalized, how can this possibly get any worse?" she asked

"Well, the guy who did this to you? He's not as dead as we thought. Just to be safe, you and Tony are coming with me to a safehouse until we catch him."

"Gibbs, I know you better than that. You would not be nearly so concerned if it were not more serious than that." _Damn, she's good._

"I'll explain more to you later. Meanwhile, you two get to play dead. We have to get you two out of here. Ducky!" he covered Ziva with her sheet and disconnected the heart monitor, "Ready to take her home?"

Ducky and Jimmy Palmer came into the room, each pushing a gurney along with them. Two body bags were placed on the gurneys. Ducky pulled back the sheet a little, so that he could speak to her, "Don't worry, these bags have never been used. This is all for show, to help ensure your safety. Close your eyes, and don't move a muscle."

He carefully removed her IV and monitor sensors. Once he 'pierced' her liver to check her temperature, he and Palmer moved her into one of the bags on the gurney. "There's a little straw here for you to breath Ziva." Palmer whispered

* * *

Once Ziva was bagged and tagged, the same process was done to Tony, only with a little less cooperation. "You want me to get into one of those things? I've had enough near death experinces thank you very much, so no thanks!"

"DiNozzo, would you rather be hunted down and killed, or get out of the hospital?" Gibbs asked

On that note, Tony's eyes lit up. "No more hospital? Why didn't you say so! No more gowns, no more drugs, no more bedpans..."

Gibbs slapped him upside the head, "Play dead, DiNozzo!"

Gibbs instantly regretted that command. Tony began this elaborate death scene. It started with fake chest pain and wheezing, then he asked, "Why is it so cold and dark? Boss? Are you there? Everything's so...so dim! I see a light!" he began to cough and doubled over before laying back. "Tell my mom that I love her!" with that, Tony lay "dead". He twitched a couple of times before lying still. His eyes were closed, and his tongue hung out of his mouth a little.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and covered Tony up, "Get him outta here, Duck!"


	13. Chapter 13

AN: Sorry for the super slow update. Things have been nuts. I've been to the hospital twice in the past six weeks, and have to go back for a procedure in an hour, so the next update might not be for a while, depending on how fast I bounce back. I've missed over a hundred classes, all honors, so I'm swamped with homework. Thanks to all who reviewed!

* * *

"Alright, all systems are up and operational. I have audio, video, and telecom feeds up. Looks like we're ready to get this show on the road!" McGee fiddled with the last few connections, setting up their vantage point. He and Abby were situated in a van outside the hospital, loaded with video monitors, live audio feeds, and more equipment than both their annual salaries combined.

"Alright, bossman. Can you hear us?" Abby called through the headset

A muffled voice came through, "Loud and clear, Abbs. Everything working?"

McGee adjusted the frequency, "Yeah, just fine tuning."

"Ducky? Are you and Black Lung set?" Abby called flipping the tuner

"Yes, is the alleyway clear?" Ducky asked quietly. From the van, Abby and McGee could see Ducky and Palmer with the gurneys in the elevator, Gibbs in Tony and Ziva's now vacant room, and the alleyway behind the hospital.

"No persons or vehicles visible. I think you're safe." McGee told them, "But keep an eye out for Wallace. If he keeps his word, we have two hours. If not, things could get hairy."

"Roger."

* * *

Gibbs sat quietly on Ziva's now vacant bed. Flipping through his wallet, he found two photos. The only two he kept with him at all times. One was of he and Kelly, eating s'mores at their summer campsite. The other was of the Christmas party last year. Jen sat in his lap, slightly tipsy from the evening's festivities. McGee was red-faced and wobbly, wrapping his arms around a grinning Abby's middle to steady himself. Ducky, ever the gentleman, stood with pride and dignity, his hand on Gibbs' shoulder. Finally, Tony sat on the floor in front of everyone, Ziva sleeping with her head flopped lazily on his shoulder, snoring softly. Which for her, meant not tripping the Richter scale. 

This was his family. And seeing his family zipped away in body bags, even if it was all a charade was more than he could handle at the moment. But if he trusted anyone with his children, it was Ducky. With illustrious medical knowledge and a level of commitment that rivaled his own, he knew they would be treated with the best care possible.

Mossad had offered them sanctuary at a cabin outside the city. The area was meant for political refugees. A small, two bedroom cottage out in the woods on private property owned by the Israeli Embassy. Initially, Gibbs had insisted on use of his own home, but Mossad would not permit it. Not after what happened there one fateful summer. Director David insisted on the safehouse.

"Jethro?" a voice called from the doorway. He quickly stashed the photos back in his wallet.

"Yeah, Jen?" 

She took a seat beside him, "Why so pensive? Worried?"

He sighed, "I don't worry, Jen. You know that. But my gut tells me something stinks."

"So 'the gut' has a nose now, does it?" she chuckled, "Ducky and Mr. Palmer are on their way out to the safehouse. They only have a small break in the weather. Once they arrive, Officer Bashan said there would be several officers patrolling the woods nearby, along with some of our agents. They are going to be okay, Jethro. Ducky will bring them back to Bethesda once we get Wallace."

"Gibbs! Wallace's truck is in the parking lot!" Abby screamed into the headset, "I guess he wasn't messing around."

Gibb's voice answered her back, "Abby! Earwig! You don't need to scream, I can hear you. Or at least I could before you deafened me!"

"Sorry, Gibbs. Hey, at least you already know ASL, right?" she offered, "Okay, not funny. He keeps circling the lot. I think he's looking for something...he's gone!"

"Where did he go?!" Gibbs barked

"Ow, that does hurt!" she turned to McGee, a pleading look in her eyes, "_a little help?_" she mouthed

"It looks like he's heading out North to the freeway." McGee told him

"He's not following the van, is he?" 

"Why would he? He doesn't know that Tony and Ziva are 'dead', or that Ducky's in on it. Plus the van is unmarked. How could he follow them?" Abby said, checking all the monitors for something that may have tipped off Wallace.

"Unless we have a mole." Gibbs tore off the headset, cursing

* * *

The van pulled over off the highway, halfway to their destination. Aching to be free, Tony unzipped his bag. "Oh, yeah! Freedom, sweet freedom! Zi-vah! We're here!"

He got no response. Troubled by this, he reached over, and unzipped her bag. He let out a sigh, she was sound asleep. That, or drugged. She looked peaceful enough, no weapon in hand. She looked so helpless.

The back door swung open with a creak. "Hey, Ducky! Are we there yet?"

Ducky and the Autopsy Gremlin were standing outside the van, none to pleased. "Unfortunately, no. The Department of Transportation has issued an order that either chains or studded tires must be in use at all times for the next twenty miles. So for now, we have some maintenance to do first. Mr. Palmer, the jack stands are in the overhead, and Anthony, could you hand me that case behind you?"

"How long does it take to get the chains on?" Tony tried to lift the box, but quickly regretted it. He let it fall to the ground, and rubbed his sore shoulder. _Damn, forgot about that_

"Oh, Anthony. Your left arm would probably be more useful right now. With your shoulder in its current condition." Ducky scolded gently, "for all four tires it shouldn't take more than an hour to get set."

"Can I help?"

"Heavens no. You and Ziva are staying in the back, where its warm. With your shoulder torn up, and your lungs in their condition after your bout with Y. Pestis, and Ziva fighting off pneumonia while she can't even stand up, absolutely not. We don't want to risk anything."

"What can I do then, Duck? I'm going crazy back here by myself!"

"You aren't alone, Tony. You have Ziva to keep you company. In case you get chilled, there are emergency blankets over Ziva's head. There should be some snacks up there as well, but you must share them."

"Ziva's out, Duck."

"Oh, yes. I forgot about that," he moved into the van, squatting next to Ziva's sleeping form, "I gave her a mild sedative before we departed. She tends to get a bit claustrophobic, and stress is not something she needs right now. It should wear off within the hour. I was hoping we would be there by now, but apparently Mother Nature has a blizzard in store for us. Keep a close eye on her, we don't want any surprises now, do we?" 

The doors closed, and Tony looked around for something to busy himself with. _Great, an hour's wait. We won't even reach wherever we're going before Gibbs calls us back, having caught the bastard. _

Rummaging through the supplies, he found his 'Shakespeare' tome, a Rubik's cube, a handheld Tetris game, and a note.

_Tony,_

_Don't be greedy, you have to share. Try not to drive each other nuts, kill each other, or break rule 12. : )_

_Abby_

"Mister Palmer, if you would raise that up a little more, I would be appreciative." Ducky called form half-way under the van

"Sure thing, Doctor Mallard." Palmer began to move the jack up and down

"That's fine there. Now it's just a matter of finishing, and getting on the road again before the storm rolls in."

An old pick-up truck pulled over behind the van. A young man dressed in forest camouflage stepped out, "You folks look like you've got a tire problem. Let me give you a ride, my truck's already got chains."

Ducky slid out from under the van, "Thank you for the offer, however we are nearly finished, and we really must get going. Mister Palmer, set us down!"

"Yes, Doctor!"

Ducky began to move around to the back to check on his passengers when he heard the all too familiar cocking of a gun.

"That wasn't a request. Get in!"


	14. Chapter 14

AN: Sorry for yet another slow update, and a short chapter. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far!

* * *

Tony sat quietly in the back, ignoring the constant shifting of the van. The Rubik's cube he had been using to distract himself was nearly finished. "Just one more side...damn!" the opposite side now was jumbled. _Impossible piece of junk. Its a nerd toy anyway._

Frustrated, he threw the cube away, watching it roll down toward the door, following the slant of the vehicle. He moved over next to Ziva's gurney, quietly shepherding over her while she slept. Somehow she seemed a little less threatening in her sleep. With the exception of the time he woke up to the barrel of a Sig Sauer between his eyes.

She was snoring softly, and for once, Tony didn't seem to mind the low hum. He smiled, brushing a few loose tendrils of hair out of her face. She smiled a little, warming Tony's heart. He reached into the overhead storage, and pulled out a spare blanket, tucking it around her slender form. She groaned softly, shifting around slightly, and he leaned in closer, "Hey, you ready to wake up? Come, on Ziva..." he gently patted her cheek, trying to help her come to

"Huh?" she opened her eyes, and saw Tony's face, inches from hers, "Tony? What are you doing?"

"I like to watch." he grinned, "How are you feeling? Don't try to-"

As she tried to rise, a sharp pain pierced her side. Crimson blood trickled from her lip as she bit down to keep from crying out. She felt strong but gentle hands on her sides, forcing her down. He carefully wiped away the streak of blood, "I was going to say don't get up yet. You speak five languages, but you can't listen in one! Ducky doped you up. You weren't supposed to wake up until we got there, but we have a bit of a delay... Hey! Its snowing again!" he looked out the small window in the door, looking like a kid at Christmas

She shook her head, fighting off the impending headache, threatening to transpire. Tony handed her a bottle of water, which she promptly refused. "I'm fine, Tony. I just need things to stop spinning. Thank you, but I do not need your assistance."

"Well, how about Ducky's? Stay here, I'll go get him."

She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped when she felt the van shift. She clung to Tony instinctively, releasing him almost immediately once she realized what she had done "What is that?"

"It looks like we're about ready to get on the road again. Gibbs will probably have the moron caught before we get to the safehouse. All this has been one huge waste of time! I played with a Rubik's cube, Ziva, a Rubik's cube! I was that bored!"

Ziva shook her head. She felt more like a babysitter than a partner to him at times. His heart was almost always in the right place, but his mind was usually elsewhere. When she did the dossier on him, she found it ironic that his initials spelled ADD. "Well, poor you. Perhaps Ducky should have drugged you instead, yes?"

Tony smiled at her. She was beginning to slur her speech slightly, and was obviously still weary from the sedatives.

The back door opened, "Hey, Ducky! Can we get this show on the-"

The man standing in the doorway was definitely not Ducky. He stood towering over them clad in forest camo, and toting a large rifle. "Your 'Ducky' isn't here, sorry."

Ziva reached under her pillow, searching for her weapon, and not finding it.

"Both of you, get up. Now!" Wallace ordered, taking aim at Ziva's head, "And don't you even think about it, Missy! You've caused me enough grief as it is. There's no way I'm going to Leavenworth. Up on your feet!"

Tony and Ziva both raised their hands defensively. Tony slowly rose to his feet. He noticed that Ziva did not. _Damn! Please, Ziva. Get up! He almost took you away from us once..._

"Are you deaf or stupid, woman?! I already gave you folks an opportunity to end this. You declined. So we have to take a less civilized approach. Get up, and I'm not gonna warn you again!"

Ziva somehow managed to sit up, ignoring the throbbing pain in her chest. Panting and fighting back tears, she tried to force her legs to support her. They wouldn't.

"She can't! You hit her with a stolen car, and left her for dead on the side of a road, remember? She can't stand up, she can't walk! Any idea how boned you are, Wallace? Grand theft auto, hit-and-run, assaulting a federal agent, resisting arrest, kidnapping, no jury in the right mind is going to let you see the light of day again! They're going to stick a needle in your arm, and I'm gonna watch." Tony exploded in a fit of rage

Ziva took a second to pick her jaw up off the floor before turning to the gunman, who had turned his aim from her, to Tony.

"You're in no position to be threatening me, boy!"

"Tony! Do not be stupid. He is not stable, and there is no reason for you to protect me. Protect yourself!" Ziva whispered to Tony

"Go ahead, shoot me! Add murder to the charges! I hope you like it warm, Wallace. I hear hell is just lovely this time of year." Tony spoke calmly

Ziva closed her eyes, willing the tears not to come, waiting to hear the shots.

The notorious sound of a bullet being fired filled her ears. She broke down, not daring to look, resting her head in her hands. _No, please no. Not again. Not Tony too._

She felt herself being pulled into a bear-hug, her hair softly being stroked. "Ziva, its okay. Look!" _Tony's voice, but how?_

She opened her eyes. Wallace's body lay in a heap in the doorway. Peering outside, she saw a welcome sight. Gibbs stood a few feet away, gun in hand. Tony rubbed her shoulders, "See? I had everything under control!"

"You had no idea Gibbs was there, did you?" she scoweled

"Not a clue." he grinned

* * *

Almost done! The next chapter will be up tomorrow, I split this one because it was so long. Instead, there are two shorter ones. Hopefully that's easier to read. Review?


	15. Chapter 15

AN: I know, I know, I promised a quicker update. Well...its here now. Enjoy!

* * *

McGee was over at Wallace's old pick-up, attempting to free Ducky and Palmer from their bindings. Removing the duct tape from their mouths was the easy part; untying the ropes around their wrists and ankles was a little more of a challenge. After a few minutes of trying, Ducky sighed, "Timothy, while I appreciate the effort, you are not helping by pulling them tighter."

"Sorry, Ducky. The scouts taught me how to tie ropes. Just not how to untie them." he explained in exasperation as Ducky's hands began to turn purple

Gibbs, watching the scene from a short distance away, rolled his eyes, "McGee! What's rule nine?"

Running down his mental list of Gibbs' rules, he couldn't quite recall what number nine was. Gibbs approached him from behind, slapping the back of his head, and offering him a pocket knife, "Never go anywhere without a knife."

"Hey, boss! Is Ducky out there? We kinda need him over here!" Tony called from the van

Gibbs shoved McGee out of the way, making quick work of the knots. "Go!"

* * *

Ducky ran quickly over to the van, where Ziva was doubled over in Tony's arms, coughing violently. He pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, handing it to Ziva as he tried to enter the back of the van without disturbing the crime scene. "What happened here, Tony? Did she just start coughing, or has this been a recurring problem?"

Tony ran a hand up and down her back, trying to help her breathe. "She just started hacking up a lung! I don't know what started it. She was fine up until now."

After a moment she sat up, red in the face, still struggling to breathe. Ducky took the handkerchief from her, carefully examining it, "Oh, dear."

The once pale cloth was now sprayed with green mucous streaked with crimson blood, and a substance that looked like coffee grounds. Both Ziva and Tony saw it too, and the expression of shock and concern on Ducky's face. "We need to get you to a hospital, Ziva. The quicker the better...Jethro!" Ducky called

Gibbs was standing right outside the door, "What's wrong, Duck?" he peered inside, hoping for some indication as to what happened.

"Call for medical assistance for Miss David, would you Jethro? I fear that she may have come down with a rather nasty case of pneumonia." Ducky felt her forehead, his concern growing

"I feel fine, Ducky. I just started coughing. It just started happening, so there is no reason to make such a fuss over it. It could have been an allergy, or because of the cold air when the door opened, or-" Ziva began listing excuses, but none of them would convince Ducky so easily

"Ziva! In case you haven't noticed, you are coughing up blood! That is never normal, and you do need immediate medical attention! Stop this belligerency, or it will be the death of you!" Ducky scolded her

She flinched slightly at Ducky's admonishment. She was used to Gibbs, the Director, Abby, even Tony yelling at her. But never Ducky. He was one of the first people on this team to see her as anything more than a replacement; something more than the empty space where Kate once filled their hearts. He was always there to lend an ear when no one else would. He had never raised his voice to her before now. She opened her mouth to speak, but silently nodded instead.

Tony stepped aside, allowing Gibbs to gather her up in his arms. She thought better of protesting, not wanting a blow to the head. He held her close to his chest, wrapping her blanket tightly around her, and moved her out of the van. "Ducky, DiNozzo! Off my crime scene!"

The two obediently left, avoiding the body in the doorway, finding McGee and Palmer waiting patiently outside. Gibbs shifted Ziva around slightly, opening the back door of the blue sedan, and laying her down in the seat. "Ducky! Until that ambulance gets here, that body can wait. I want you in the back with her. Make sure we don't have any more surprises!"

Ducky nodded, "Mr. Palmer, would you go and grab my bag, before Jethro takes it as evidence?"

"Yes, Doctor." Jimmy eagerly ran to fetch the bag, "Is she going to be alright?"

"I don't doubt it, my boy. Timothy? I believe you will find some emergency supplies in the trunk. Would you go bring Ziva some more blankets? I don't want her to get chilled."

* * *

Ducky opened the back door, waking a dozing Ziva. "I'm sorry to wake you, dear. But from now on, I want you to try to stay awake for me, alright?"

She nodded slowly, leaning against the window. She fell back, letting out a startled cry as the door behind her opened. "McGee? Are you trying to kill me?" she fell back, nearly falling into the snow bank when McGee caught her under her arms, easing her back into her seat

"Um, no. Ducky thought you might be cold," he handed her a pile of several thin wool blankets, "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"Why don't you go help Jethro with the crime scene? Oh, and try to keep Anthony from either worrying incessantly or driving his superior to commit homicide?"

McGee smiled, "No promises on the last one."

Ducky took Ziva's wrist, counting her pulse, "I'm sorry that I was so terse with you, dear. I understand that none of this was your fault, and that there could be a mundane explanation for your condition. However I don't want to take any chances that could result in anything happening to you. You have every right to be frustrated and scared, and I'm sorry for being so harsh."

She smiled a little, color returning to her cheeks, "Its alright." she stifled a few coughs, "You were only looking out for me."

He finished checking her over quickly, letting her rest afterward if she promised to stay awake. Tony was waiting patiently outside, standing in the snow in his gown and slippers from the hospital. Ducky sighed, "Anthony, I did leave you a change of clothes in the van. You must be freezing!"

Tony looked down at his attire, "Now you tell me! I faced a maniac with my ass hanging out!" He turned around, walking back to the van, the back flap of his gown blowing in the increasing wind. He stopped when after a few steps he heard a wolf whistle, followed by a bout of coughing. He turned to the car, opening the door to see a grinning Ziva. "See something you like?"

She smiled, making a show of looking him over, "Turn around for me."

He obliged, if nothing else for her amusement, smacking his bottom as he turned around, shaking his hips, "Well?"

"I take it back. Its a five."

* * *

AN: Thanks to all who reviewed so far, I never expected this story to be so popular! Almost done...


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Thanks to all who've reviewed thus far! Sorry about the less than frequent updates. A little fluff in here for ya! I'm running out of ideas, so if you have any suggestions, PM me!

* * *

Tony sat in the back of the sedan, taking Ducky's vacant seat, watching Ziva. The ambulance was coming, but the violent blizzard that was encroaching made all forms of travel next to impossible. For now, they waited. He had to nudge her every so often, Ducky's orders, in order to keep her awake. "Hey, no naps. If I can't sleep, you can't."

She shrugged, turning around so that her back faced him. "Go sick your head." she wheezed

He shook his head, correcting her idioms had become second nature, but now was not the time. Instead, he continued to poke her side, which he knew was still sore, in order to keep her awake. Hearing her annoyed whimpers of pain broke his heart. It was worse knowing that he was the one causing her more pain, but he wouldn't risk anything happening on his watch. "No! Bad girl!"

Exasperated at her ability to ignore her pain, he moved to a more dangerous approach. He grabbed her foot from under the blankets, holding her slender ankle tightly as she tried to kick loose. Removing the soft socks from her feet, he lightly traced his nail along the arch of her foot. She screamed, "Tony! Stop!" he stopped after a moment when her shrieks changed from screams of laughter to a rasping cough

The back door opened, and Tony turned to see an irate Gibbs glaring at him, "Oh, hey boss. I was just doing what Ducky said. 'Keep her awake until paramedics get here.' You know how-"

Gibbs cut him off, "Ambulance is here. Are you riding or not?"

Tony hopped out, standing patiently with the others near the abandoned van while Ducky briefed one of the medics on her condition, while the other got her settled into the back. Palmer and McGee were conversing quietly; something about elves.

Once everything was in order, one of the medics asked, "Anyone riding along?"

Tony dashed forward, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder, "DiNozzo!" Gibbs' bark lacked the usual enthusiasm and energy, instead laced with fatigue and stress, "What am I going to tell you?"

Tony pondered this for a moment, "Never eat yellow snow?"

Gibbs rubbed his temple, "Rule twelve: never date a co-worker."

"Well, there's really nothing going on between us. I mean-"

"Tony!" Tony was surprised by the use of his first name. Gibbs rarely used it unless the situation truly called for it. This raised his shields, while at the same time putting him at ease. Gibbs stood, leading Tony away to speak privately, "When you look at her, I know you see more than just a co-worker. I made rule twelve a rule for a reason. I don't want to see my own mistakes made by someone else. You break her, I break you. Are we clear?"

Tony stood in silence, peering over at the ambulance where Ziva was watching them curiously, "Are you giving me permission to break one of the sacred 'rules'?"

He received no reply, only the sight of Gibbs walking away. He dashed into the back of the ambulance, where Ziva had finally fallen asleep. Smiling, he picked up her hand. Out the small window in the back, he could see the team waving their goodbyes.

* * *

"I don't get it Tim," Abby sighed frantically, "Apart from us, the doctor, the chief of medicine, and Tony and Ziva, no one knew about our little fake out! This had to have been an inside job!"

Rummaging through the bags of labeled evidence, she came upon a sight that shocked her. McGee caught her from behind as her knees buckled, nearly giving way, "Oh, my god! Bert!" the stuffed hippo, which she had lent to Ziva at the hospital, was now sealed up in an evidence bag, sitting in the crate. She tore into the bag frantically, dismissing chain of evidence entirely, cradling the flatulent plush against her chest"Oh, Bert! Who did this to you?"

The label on the bag read 'Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs (sorry Abs) .' Fuming, Abby turned to McGee, "How could Gibbs do that? He sealed him in a bag, McGee! Poor Bert!"

McGee rolled his eyes. God, he loved this girl, but she could be absolutely impossible sometimes. Sitting her down in her chair, he began to rub her shoulders, trying to ease her tension, "He probably just wanted to make sure he got to you safely. He even said he was sorry."

"Maybe..." she sighed, tossing her empty Caff-Pow! cup lazily into the garbage

"Look, caffeine isn't going to last you forever. Get some rest, okay? Even Gibbs is sleeping at his desk!"

She stared him down, "You looked down and to the left, fibber! Liar, liar, pants on fire! Sitting on a telephone wire!" she grinned, knowing that their stubborn leader would never sleep on the job

He triumphantly pulled out his cell phone, "You know, I think you've spent too much time around Ziva lately. If you don't believe me, look!"

There on the two inch screen, was the evidence. The noble Leroy Jethro Gibbs, snoring away at his desk. Abby's eyes grew to the size of saucers, "No way!"

Flipping the phone back in his pocket, he smiled at her, "Now will you get some rest?"

"Okay," she mumbled, "But only for a few minutes! Wake me, McGee!" she stumbled over to her futon, kicking off her boots

McGee wandered over to her side, checking to make sure she was sound asleep. If she hadn't been so sleep deprived, she probably would have noticed that the picture he showed her was timestamped from well over a year ago, with the date clearly visible in the corner. She deserved a little rest after all the team had been through. Knowing she would murder him, leaving no forensic evidence otherwise, he set an alarm on her computer for half an hour later.

* * *

"Okay, now lie back." the nurse instructed, "And take a deep breath when I tell you to, and don't let it out until I say so. Ready?"

Ziva drew in a deep breath, ignoring the agonizing pain ripping through her chest. Though the whole thing took less than thirty seconds, it seemed like an eternity. "Okay, Miss David. You can breath easy again."

She rolled to her side, coughing violently while she tried to wriggle away from the oxygen mask the nurse tried to fit over her face, "I am fine!" she wheezed, "I just need to catch my breath..."

"Just hold on, okay? Dr. Pitt is coming to check that x-ray, and find out what's going on with you. Now just lie back, and try to relax a little." the nurse pulled the blankets around her stubborn patient

Tony, who had been standing in the doorway, moved to Ziva's bedside. "Hey? Everything looking okay?" he sat next to her, letting her rest her head on his shoulder, "The doc says I'm free to go. You're not though." he had exchanged the hospital gown for a tee-shirt and sweats. The only visible testament to their ordeal was a sling on his arm.

"Well, good for you." she muttered

"I won't leave you, Ziva. I'm staying right here with you until you get sent home." she was touched by his concern for her. When he wasn't being a misogynistic man-child, he could be very thoughtful. "Hey! What's up doc?"

A doctor had entered the room. His eyes lit up with recognition when he saw Tony, "DiNozzo? What are you doing here harassing my patient? Or could you just not resist a chance to see me again?"

Tony chuckled, "Well, seeing as she's my partner, its my prerogative to invade her privacy. Its what I do!" he helped Ziva sit up, "Ziva? This is Brad Pitt; no relationship to the actor. This guy helped me survive the plague!"

Dr. Pitt shook Ziva's hand, "Nice to meet you, Ziva. Let's see here...looks like pneumonia. Mind if I take a listen?" listening to her breathing, there was a distinct wheeze to each breath, "Hmm.. I don't like the sound of that. Any idea what brought this on?"

"Probably the eight broken ribs." Tony offered casually

"Eight?! Good grief, no wonder you're in pain. Tony? Would you mind giving us a few minutes of privacy? You probably shouldn't even be in here. You are very susceptible to respiratory infections, and we don't want you getting sick."

Tony and Ziva exchanged glances, "Sorry doc, I'm staying."

* * *

Gibbs walked down the corridor, coffee in hand. The nurses now knew him on a first name basis, and his agents were becoming semi-permanant fixtures around the hospital. He peered into Ziva's room, smiling at what he saw.

Ziva lay in Tony's arms, wrapped up in several layers of blankets. He watched over her, holding her protectively against his side. The tray of food from the cafeteria sat half-empty in her lap. Occasionally, Tony would try to sneak a bite from her tray, only to be stabbed in the hand with a fork. She finally relinquished the tray, much to Tony's disappointment, "Well, I don't want it now!"

"You kept stealing from my plate, what do you mean you do not want it?" she asked, her brow wrinkled in confusion

"Its no fun if you just give it to me!" he protested, "Why would I want something I didn't work for? Where's my sense of accomplishment?"

Frustrated, she wriggled free of his grasp and lay down, "Just eat it, Tony. Let me sleep."

He tucked her in, smiling affectionately, "You know, when I was a kid? My mom used to have this remedy. It always helped me breathe better when I was sick."

"If you offer to rub Vapo-rub on my chest, I will shoot you." she mumbled

_Damn! _Tony staggered for a minute, "No! Why would I want to rub your chest? I mean-"

"Tony! Quit while you're behind!" Gibbs cautioned, "Rule seventeen, always know when to back down."

"Good advice boss!" Tony stepped cautiously away


	17. Chapter 17

AN: I hope you have as much fun reading this as I've had writing it! : ) Thanks to all who've reviewed, there are honestly too many of you to list here!

Read and review!

* * *

Tony took a seat next to Ziva's bed. His seat. He had occupied it so frequently in the past few days that Abby brought a label maker, and put a sticker bearing his name on the back of the seat.

As a precaution, Dr. Pitt wanted to keep her over the weekend. Today being Saturday, she was already counting down the hours until freedom. Ziva protested having to stay so long, as they all knew she would, but there was no room for argument. She finally agreed on the terms that she didn't have to wear a gown. Gibbs had brought her some pajamas from her apartment, providing her with some sense of home.

Brad came in, sighing as he saw Tony in his usual seat, "You can go home, you know. Its three in the morning; she's asleep anyway. I can call you if there's any change?"

Tony smiled, "Nah! Its alright. Besides, this way I can keep an eye on her, so she doesn't threaten the nurses. Tammy now has a bed-pan shaped bruise on her backside. Apparently, bed-pans are 'indignant, unsanitary, and completely unnecessary.'"

The doctor smiled at his sleeping patient. As he got closer, his smile faded, "I don't like the sound of that!"

Tony perked up briefly, worried that something might be wrong. His fears soon subsided when he heard the Dr. Pitt had heard. That low, raspy, gravely roar that could wake the dead. A sound which surprisingly didn't bother him anymore. "Relax, doc! If it stops, then you should worry."

Dr. Pitt carefully listened to Ziva's chest, chuckling, "She snores huh?"

"Like a drunk elephant with tonsillitis. You get used to it. I didn't even notice it until you mentioned it."

"Either you're the most tolerant guy in the world, you've gone deaf because of the noise, or she means the world to you!"

* * *

"_Tell me you got something Abs_," Gibbs signed through the glass door. She'd shut herself in again. Only her music, her computer, and her caffeine were allowed on these hollowed grounds when she was in one of these moods.

She saw his hands, but ignored them. Gibbs signed again, "_Abby, come on! Please."_

Abby smirked a little. Getting Gibbs to say, or in this case sign, the word "please" was quite an accomplishment. Pleased with herself, she opened the barrier, blasting the lab with sound.

Gibbs marched in, and reached to lower the volume. When he touched the knob, an electric jolt shot through him, "Abby? What gives?"

"I don't like it when people mess with my music!" she pouted, "It would be like...someone coming into your house, and replacing your hand tools with electric ones."

"How is tuning the volume down in any way like messing with my tools?"

"Well, my music is best appreciated at volumes where you can feel the music, just like you like the feel of the hand tools, and the grain of the wood. And its not the same if you use power tools." she lamented, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis

Gibbs nodded, understanding her sentiment, "Okay, I won't mess with the volume. Now, do you have anything good?"

She cocked her head to the side smiling a wicked grin, "Have I ever let you down? Don't answer that." she amended quickly, "But yeah. In the twenty-four hours before Mark Wallace died, he-"

"'Brought down', Abby. The bastard didn't just die, I shot him." Gibbs corrected scornfully

"Okay, in the twenty-four hours before Wallace was 'brought down', he called four numbers on his cell. One was to his grandfather, no surprise there. He was living with him. The second was to a pizza delivery company out in Fairfax. A third was to a one-nine-hundred number multiple times, and a fourth to...care to guess?"

"I don't care if he called the damn Pope, Abby! Just tell me why its important!" Gibbs was tempted to start slapping her like he did with the others

"He placed four calls to one Michael Stenson! Ziva and Tony's attending physician" she told him contently, placing a post-it note on the lapel of his jacket, "McGee's waiting in the car, and Michelle already got your warrant; its in the glove box."

He leaned in close enough to her to whisper in her ear, "_You're my favorite"_

On his way out, he slapped her bottom, making her short skirt flip up slightly, "Gibbs! How could you?!" she whimpered in mock hurt. She moved over to her desk, picking up Bert to give him a hug, "I think Kate was right. _Someone needs to burn that boat._" she whispered to her inanimate confidant

* * *

Tony stood in front of the vending machines, quietly whistling the _Jeopardy _theme. Numerous sugary, salty, barely edible snacks wrapped in multi-colored packages were the only source of food he'd had for the past few days. That and the occasional bites he stole from Ziva's tray.

Selecting a bag of nuts, he relinquished his dollar. The machine accepted his money, but failed to produce the snack. He tried the coin return, only to be disappointed again. Frustrated, he took a leaf out of Ziva's book, and began to kick the machine.

His approach failed to work, only leaving him with a swollen foot and a missing dollar. He turned around, bumping into a woman in a wheelchair, "Oh, sorry..."

He headed back to the room. After a few steps, something registered in his mind. He turned back, "Ziva?! What are you doing out of bed?"

She studied the machine for a moment, before softly slapping the side of it. The bag immediately fell down to the slot below. Retrieving the snack, she handed it to him, "Here is your nut sack. Sometimes it requires a more delicate touch."

Tony took a moment to pick his jaw up off the floor, his mind still trying to wrap around the sentence, "_here is your nut sack_." Essentially, he just got his balls handed to him. "You shouldn't be out of bed! How did you manage to get out here?" Ziva was nothing if not persistent, but there were times when she could be too stubborn for her own good

"Well, I woke up. I found your wallet in your chair. Took a dollar," she offered him back his pilfered wallet, "Unplugged those wires and tubes, and I went to get myself something to eat that isn't air-dropped into third world countries."

He smiled, "Sick of hospital food too huh? Well, can't blame ya. Come on, let's get you back to bed. Believe it or not, those tubes and wires are there for more than just show. Besides, you probably set off some silent alarm, and they're looking for you. Have you ever seen _Logan's Run?_"

"There is an alarm, but there is also a button to turn it off."

Turning her chair around, he began to push her quickly through the halls. Passing nurses stopped to glare at him and scowl. Ziva clung tightly to the armrest with her good hand as Tony picked up speed, "Tony I have enough broken bones, thank you very much!" she screamed as he wove in between a couple of gurneys, laughing as Tony tipped the chair back to a 45 degree angle, "Okay, that is enough! Tony?!"

He took a corner sharply, nearly crashing her into a wall. She was flung from the chair, flopping around on the ground like a ragdoll. She rolled onto her side, her back to Tony

Mortified, he ran to her side, "Ziva! I'm so sorry. That was really dumb, I didn't mean for you to get hurt!" he brushed her hair out of her face, smiling at her, "You okay?"

Slowly, she began to sit up, slightly disorientated. She became painfully aware of her broken ribs, her breath hitching, "I will be. It is a good thing that most of my body is covered in plaster still, yes?"

Gathering her up in his arms, he sighed, "I wouldn't exactly call that a good thing, but yeah. We should probably call your doctor, huh? Well, they'll probably send someone in a minute to find out what the hell that noise was." he gently carried her the last few feet to her room, laying her down in the bed, tentatively stroking her cheek "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Now that you mention it, I do feel a little-"

She promptly passed out, falling back into his arms.

* * *

Relax...I'm not going to kill anyone off...or am I?

Hehe... I know, I'm evil : )


	18. Chapter 18

AN: Warning- contains deep, angsty conversation between Tony and fish. (Yes, yes you did read that right! Don't adjust your monitor!) Also, contains some innuendo...you've been warned!

* * *

Tony sat in the waiting room, waiting for news. Members of the medical staff came running as soon as they heard the crash, as he thought they would, and kicked him out of the room. One of the nurses spent a good ten minutes giving him a long-winded speech on how his reckless behavior could have seriously hurt someone.

Like he needed to be told that. As if the evidence of his stupidity wasn't blatantly obvious already.

_What was I thinking? Sure, it seemed like harmless fun! She needed to be taken care of, to be looked after... not hurt worse...Haven't I caused her enough misery to last a lifetime?_

* * *

Needing air, Tony walked out into the courtyard. The sun was still hours away from rising, and a bitter chill whipped through the open field. A large pond took up most of the small clearing. Large goldfish rested at the bottom of the pool, some chasing each other playfully.

Tony knelt down and watched the fish. They darted to the surface upon his arrival, instinctively associating him with food. Tony grinned, "Hey, sorry guys! I'm not the guy who feeds you. I've got nuts? Want those?" he didn't expect the fish to answer him obviously, but sometimes the best thing you can say is nothing at all.

He sat down on the snow covered concrete, starring down at his gathered audience, "I don't know what to do anymore. I guess I've never been able to get anything right." he took out the peanuts, and dropped a few in the pond, watching them sink away unnoticed, "I wanted to be a cop, do something to help people, you know? My dad didn't like it, my boss doesn't like me, and my partner is in the hospital because of me."

I love my job! I love the thrill you get when you chase a bastard who actually _thinks _that he has a chance of getting away, I love being able to tell myself I did some good in the world, I love the feeling you get when you finally get to go home after a long day..." he sighed, "I love my partner..."

He continued to watch the fish, all of whom were intently watching him still, "I love her. Her smile, her wit, that evil grin she gets when she's up to something that scares the hell out of ya?" he chuckled at the memories, "But I hurt her; might be pretty bad too. They say the people you love can cause you the most hurt; does that mean she loves me? You know, 'cause I hurt her?"

A voice came from behind him, "Tony? Who are you talking to?"

He turned around, facing the voice, "Fish. Now leave me alone, McGoo." Timothy McGee was one of the last people he wanted to talk to about his problems.

McGee's face contorted in confusion for a second. He opened his mouth to say something, before closing it again. He tried to speak several times before his mind could form anything remotely resembling a response to that statement, "Okay...did the fish have anything interesting to say?"

Tony didn't answer, only continued to stare off into the pond. He touched the surface of the water, making it ripple in the moonlight. His gathered congregation darted away.

Sighing, McGee took a seat on the frozen ground next to Tony, offering silent support. After sitting in comfortable silence for a few minutes, McGee spoke up, "We found our mole. Turns out, your doc was dirty. He basically sold you and Ziva to Wallace for a few grand. Gibbs got him to crack in five minutes."

Tony still didn't speak. He sat and watched as his loyal listeners returned to the surface.

"You were saying something when I came out here. Something about loving your partner?" McGee probed gently

"Don't flatter yourself, Probie. We both know I can do better." Tony retorted

McGee forced a smile. _Same old Tony. At least that's a good sign._ "We both know who you meant. And, personally? I think you're gonna be good for each other."

Tony turned to him, his eyebrows raised, "Yeah, everyone knows what you think about us. Or _Tommy _and _Lisa_? Come on, just because it works in your fairytale, doesn't mean life works that way."

McGee cocked his head, considering this for a moment, "Well, what you call a 'fairytale' is very much a reality, even if you can't see it yet. I've seen the way you two have eye-sex across the room, and frankly, its kinda creepy. I know for a fact that the feeling is mutual. But at the same time, you can't choose who you fall for. Its just...destiny I guess."

Tony looked up at the starlit sky overhead, "Well, if your novels don't work out for ya, Hallmark's hiring."

* * *

Tony walked into a room that was far too familiar to him. He took his seat beside Ziva's bed as she began to stir, "Hey, Ziva."

McGee stepped in from the hallway, smiling when he saw Ziva's eyes begin to open, "Hey! How are you feeling?"

She gazed around the room, which currently was spinning in a multi-colored blur. She pushed away the oxygen mask, "Woozy." she answered simply, "What happened?"

Feeling a set of hands close over hers, she relaxed a little. She could hear McGee's voice somewhere nearby, "Tony dumped you out of your wheelchair and onto your head. Considering you're still recovering from a really bad concussion, the doctors think you just got disorientated and passed out. Everything is okay though. No more maniacs. Well, except the one holding your hand there."

Tony scowled, "I'm not crazy! McGee? Tell her I'm not crazy!"

"Well...I don't know, Ziva...He _was_ talking to fish earlier. And they were talking back!" McGee grinned, enjoying his moment

Tony stood up indignantly, "They didn't talk back! Ziva, the fish do not talk to me."

"But you were talking to _fish_, yes?" Ziva inquired, still very confused, resting her palm against her throbbing head.

"Yes!" Tony told her, exasperated, "I was out in the courtyard, talking to fish!"

"And he declared his love to them!" McGee supplied happily, "He talked about how you can hurt the ones you love..."

"McGee, I swear to God!" Tony fumed, "Out! Now!"

Ziva lay back in bed, watching the two bicker like children, "McGee? My head is sore, could you go and find a nurse for me? Please?" she asked sweetly, feigning pain, covering her forehead with her hand

Worried, McGee ran down the hall, trying to flag down anyone in scrubs.

Tony sat down on the bed beside her, "Thank you. For getting rid of him." he smiled, but it quickly faded, "You're not actually in pain are you? Because if so, I can go-"

She placed a finger on his lips, "It is fine, Tony," she assured him, "I am just a little sore still. But I figured that separating you two was probably wise."

He leaned in, gently kissing her forehead, "I'm really sorry, Ziva. I never meant for you to get hurt. You've been through more than your share, before I pushed you into a wall. I would never,ever hurt you. That..." he searched for the right words, "that was really dumb."

Ziva shook her head, which was no longer spinning thankfully, "Accidents happen, yes?" she lifted his chin slightly, "Tony, what you did was irresponsible, reckless, and immature. However, it was also fun, and what can I honestly expect from you? You think with your heart, not your head." she paused for a second, "Well, at least not your big head..."

"Hey!" he pouted, "I'm capable of thinking with my big head!"

"Thanks for sharing, DiNozzo!" Gibbs said, entering the room carrying a bag of take-out Chinese. He reached over and slapped Tony upside the head, making him flinch and squeal

"What was that for?" Tony protested, though he already knew the answer

"You know why, don't even start with me!" Gibbs fumed, "What the hell were you thinking? She's not a toy, DiNozzo!" Tony hung his head a little, understanding his boss's anger toward him. Ziva was like a daughter to him

Gibbs turned to Ziva, the wrath fading from his voice, "David? For the next three weeks, every slap you earn will be given to Tony instead. Tony is now your scapegoat!" he handed her a box of sweet and sour.

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by another slap, "Shutting up, boss." he stuffed his mouth with a bite of food, reaching for a fortune cookie.

Cracking it open, his features softened when he read the fortune within. A sleepy voice beside him asked, "What does it say, Tony?" she coughed a little, choking on her food. Gibbs gently forced her to sit up, patting her back.

He brushed away Ziva's hand when she reached for it, smiling at her, "Nothing. One of those cryptic, 'you will find that you are a better person today' fortunes. Get some sleep, okay? You've earned a little rest." he pushed her back into bed, drawing the covers up to her shoulders, stuffing the fortune in his pocket

Once he was sure that she was sound asleep, he left for home for the first time in days. As soon as he was far enough away that no one could see it, he took out the fortune, rereading it:

_You will find happiness with a new love._

* * *

AN: Two updates in two days! Yay!! : )

Nearly finished; one or two more chapters...As always, reviews brighten my day! Thanks to all who've offered criticism, praise, and ideas! You all rock in my book!


	19. Chapter 19

AN: This chapter is mostly just for laughs. Humor and fluff, thats about it. The humor in this chapter is a little dry...any of you ever seen Porky's?

* * *

A ray of sunlight filtered in through the curtains, and into the large bedroom. Tony lay face-down, slouched over the foot of the bed, sound asleep. Last night, he hadn't even bothered to undress; he simply flopped down, exhausted. A pleasant dream flooded his thoughts.

* * *

_He lay resting on a sun drenched beach, in Puerto Rico. The whole beach was vacant, save for the two of them. Ziva lay sleeping alongside him, her body draped over his. She wore a two piece; a bottom and a hat. Her soft snoring didn't bother him at all. Reaching out to brush the hair from her face, she opened her eyes and smiled, "Good morning."_

_Returning her smile, he gathered her up, kissing her gently. His hand found hers, a simple gold band on each. A wave of warm water from the sea washed up, drenching the couple. Ziva flew away from him, shocked and laughing, "I think the tide is coming in. We should head back before we drown."_

_He smiled, "Back to the hotel then?" he led her by the hand, clinging to her tightly as she shivered from the cool breeze_

_He sat on the foot of the bed, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. The door opened, revealing his beloved bride wearing next to nothing, save for one of his shirts. His jaw dropped, "Wow.." was all he could manage._

_She moved to sit in his lap, kissing him passionately. A loud knock sounded at the door. She grinned seductively, "Aren't you gonna get that?"_

"_What?"_

* * *

"DiNozzo! Let go of the girl, and open up!" Gibbs' voice boomed from the front door

Groaning, he picked himself up off the bed, and stumbled into the living room. The clock on the wall read 10:31. He'd slept for nearly eight hours, and felt almost human again. He opened the front door, revealing an irate Gibbs, "I told you, I'd be here _by_ 10:30, DiNozzo! Are you...?" his eyes drifted down to a rather conspicuous part of Tony's anatomy. "I don't wanna know, I don't wanna know."

Tony made an effort to cover himself, hiding himself behind a potted plant, "Sorry, boss! Not intentional." his face turned a bright shade of red, much to the amusement of onlookers

"Very nice, Tony." Jen smiled, carrying in a large duffel bag, "However I wouldn't use a cactus if I were you..." she gestured to the plant situated near his crotch

She tossed the bag onto his couch, "Jethro? Why don't you go get her stuff set up, I'll go help her upstairs." she disappeared down the hallway, leaving the two men alone

Tony's eyes widened in horror, "Gibbs, I wasn't planning on-"

"I know that, but keep in mind that anything she does is your responsibility for the next three weeks. All repercussions are yours, and yours alone." he whispered in his ear, "And don't forget it." he slapped his head, disappearing into the guest room

"Tony, why are you dumping a cactus?" a familiar voice called from the doorway, "I know that some men have their peculiar kinks, but this is a new one to me." Ziva tried to stifle her laughter, "Is this an American thing?"

"The term is _humping_, Ziva, and I'm not." he shot her a look, watching the women's curious glances

"Alright, I do not want to know." she stumbled over to the couch, leaning against Jen for support, taking the pressure off of her ankle

Jen smiled taking a seat beside her friend, "If you need anything, you have my number. And in case he gets out of hand, you have Jethro's. Take it easy, alright? You have four weeks of sick leave already issued, and don't hesitate to ask for more if you need it." she handed Tony a bottle of pills, "I must warn you, she's on vicodin. And when she's medicated, she tends to get a little loopy."

"I do not!" Ziva protested, staring off into space, "I just have difficulty focusing is all."

Tony's eyes widened, "Oh, fun. Not only am I at an assassin's whim, I'm at a drugged assassin's whim, who has Gibbs wrapped around her finger." he shuddered slightly, "I don't know if I can do this."

Gibbs walked back into the room, smirking, "You should have thought of that earlier. Besides, somehow I don't think she's gonna be that hard to deal with." he gestured to the sofa, where she'd already fallen asleep

Tony rolled his eyes, moving to gather her up in his arms, "Come on, lets get you into bed." he gently cradled her body close to his own

She mumbled something incoherent, struggling to open her eyes. "I'm not in the mood..." she moaned as he placed her on the bed

Jen blushed, smiling, "Have fun you two." she slipped quietly out the front door, Gibbs at her heels, "But not too much fun?"

* * *

"Ziva!" Tony called, searching the house, "Come on, dinner's ready!" _how could a drugged woman with a dozen broken bones just wander off?_

He wandered into the bathroom, finding it vacant. He checked the kitchen, the living room and his own room, still not finding his missing partner, "Ziva? This isn't funny! Gibbs will have my hide!" he began to worry, checking her room again.

The unmade bed was still empty. He walked around the dimly lit room his heart now thundering away with worry, "Come on! Ziva? Where'd you go?" he checked the window, making sure it was still tightly latched, and that no one had gone in or out through it. Heading back out the door, he tripped over something in the darkness. "Ziva..." he sighed sadly

She'd fallen off the bed at some point, and lay in a heap on the floor. Kneeling down beside her, he patted her cheek, "Wake up, dinner time!" he tried to coax her awake, having little success, "Fine! I'll eat it myself!" he made a show of walking away, but stopped and turned back when he realized she wasn't following him.

He felt her brow, now very concerned. Her fever was up again. "Ziva? Come on, sweetcheeks..." he picked her up, laying her down on the bed, where at least she would be more comfortable. Running into the kitchen, he grabbed a slice of the French bread pizza he'd made, and let the smell of it fill her nose, "Pizza?" he offered

That did the trick. The warm smell brought her to her senses, "Food?" she mumbled, reaching for the plate

Tony pulled it away from her, "No, you're not getting crumbs in the bed. We're eating in the living room. Come on, sleepy head." he helped her up, taking most of her weight. He was a little concerned at how tired she was.

He sat her down on the sofa, handing her the pizza slice. "Now, its Friday; at chez DiNozzo, that means two things: pizza and movies. Well, three things. But beer isn't really an option for you." he opened the DVD cabinet, "What do you want to watch?"

She thumbed through the collection, finding a few to watch. Tony's eyebrows raised slightly, examining her picks, "_Porky's, Four Rooms_, and_ Casablanca_. Interesting choices, but your wish is my command."

* * *

After _Porky's,_ it became clear that neither of them could stay awake through two more movies. Tony split the last of the pizza between them, "So, whaddaya want to do?" he managed between mouthfuls

Ziva grinned wickedly, "There are pay phones in the lobby, yes?"

Tony nodded, not quite following, "Yeah...why do you-" his eyes lit up in recognition, "Oh...feeling mischievous, are we?" he sighed, "Come on."

Ziva placed a few coins in the machine, trying to stifle her giggles. Tony flipped though the yellow pages, trying to find a victim, "You know, you're a little scary when your loopy, but a lot more fun." his finger stopped on a local bar, the Green Dragon, where the group met often for drinks after work, "Try this place!"

After a few rings, the barkeep picked up, "_Yeah, Green Dragon._"

Ziva asked sweetly, "Hello, is there a Michael Hunt there tonight? He goes by Mike."

The barkeeper was either very naive, or a good sport. He called out to the entire bar, which was very crowded on a Friday night, "_Hey! Is there a Mike Hunt here? Anyone seen Mike Hunt?_" Ziva was fighting hard to keep from bursting out laughing on the other side, mostly from watching Tony's face change colors. She could hear the laughter of the bar patrons in the background

"He is pretty big and hairy. You can't miss him." Ziva supplied between snickers

"_Anyone seen __Mike Hunt? Big, hairy Mike Hunt- wait a second...you think that's funny, don't ya toots?! You're lucky I don't call the cops and-"_

Ziva dropped the reciever, holding her sides, cackling. Tony shook his head, "I can't believe that worked!" he laughed, "Come on, enough fun for tonight!" he led her back into his apartment, both still snickering

They collapsed on the couch, chuckling at their prank, "You know if Gibbs finds out about this its my head, right?" Tony asked

"Yes, but you chose to go along with it, and I never would have gotten the idea for it if you had not let me watch that movie." she explained, "And technically, it is my fault, you would just be taking the blame is all."

"Oh, is that all?!" he demanded in mock anger, tickling her sides

"Tony! Tony! Stop!" she screamed in pain, curling up on her side, "Please don't..." she wept

He silently cursed himself, "Sorry, Ziva." he reached for the bottle of medication on the coffee table, "Here, take this. It will help." he grabbed the trow from the back of the couch, wrapping it around her shoulders loosely

She disdainfully swallowed the pills, "Thank you. For everything. I cannot remember the last time I laughed like that." she managed a weak smile

"Neither can I." he told her, grinning. She lay back, resting her head on his shoulders. He could feel her begin to relax as the drugs took effect. He wrapped an arm tightly around her waist, holding her close, he brought her into his room, "Get some sleep, Ziva." he tucked her in beside him, watching her fall asleep

"Tony?" she whispered, barely awake

"Yeah?" he brushed her hair out of her face, revealing her pink cheeks

"That is definitely not your knee..." she muttered, slapping him softly

* * *

AN: I'll probably do another chapter; make it an even 20. Sorry for the filler... Almost done with my first fic! YAY!!


	20. Chapter 20

AN: That's all folks! Thanks to all my loyal reviewers, of whom there are too many to list. EmyPink, ME Wofford, xXChaotic-ResolveXx, CableAddict , coexistlove, Lady Arcane, balou and Sweetcheeksncis were a big help, thanks guys! Its sad, its over... oh well. The ending's pretty much pointless, like most epilogues. Fluff, humor, and I couldn't resist, more fish. Enjoy, read, review!

* * *

A warm familiar weight on his chest greeted Tony when he woke. The guest room next door hadn't had an occupant for the past week. Every night, in spite of her claiming that she did not need consoling or company, she woke up in his bed. Their relationship had to be kept platonic, despite both their wishes, but they found themselves spending more and more time in each other's company. Tony yawned, taking in a deep breath before gagging slightly. He opened his eyes to see his sleeping partner's plaster-clad arm draped over his chest. He tried to move her arm away without waking her, "Nothing against you personally, Ziva. That thing just reeks! Good thing you get rid of it today. Plus, then you can wash your arm for the first time in two months."

"Perhaps I should give it a little more time to heal?"a sleepy voice murmured sweetly, "I would not want to risk stressing the fracture. Let's give it another week."

Tony shook her awake, not too violently, but enough to wake her up the rest of the way, "No way, Ziva! You're getting that thing off today, if I have to cut it off you myself! Plus, after you get your casts off, you can take a nice bath without taping garbage bags to your limbs, and having _someone_ help you in and out of the tub." although he had to admit, that was a job he hardly could complain about

She sleepily sat up, yawning, "I get to go back to back today, yes?" she inquired hopefully, "After I get these casts removed?"

"Yeah, but only desk duty remember? Until Ducky and Brad say you're okay, you're not going out into the field." he hated to tell her this, but she needed to hear it. Even if she already knew it.

* * *

Ziva sat on Ducky's table, flexing her wrist back and forth, reacquainting herself with movement. Abby excitedly watched as Ducky sawed open the cast on her leg, "Its kinda cool to watch! This cool saw, buzzing its way through plaster, splitting it wide open...plus, after this you can move a lot easier!"

Tony sat next to Ziva on the table, "Careful, Ducky," he watched the electric saw get closer to her leg, "We've spent enough time in hospitals to last us a while. I wonder if they have something like frequent fliers, for people who end up in the hospital a lot?"

"You should know!" Abby chided, "You've got your own coffee cup at Bethesda!"

Ducky chuckled, "There is a little hypocrisy in your statement, Anthony. Not to worry, the saw uses heat and vibrations, not a sharp edge. Therefor the risk is incredibly small that anything will happen. This should be pretty uneventful." he continued his way up to her knee, cutting around until a bright red spray covered him and Ziva. The crimson fluid dripped from the cut in the plaster, and flowed down onto the floor, "Good lord! What on Earth? Ziva are you alright?"

"Ziva? Hold on, its gonna be okay. Its just a little blood, no big deal." Tony jumped down, carefully checking the wound with Ducky. Ziva looked down, confused, seeing the blood, but feeling no pain. The ME extracted a pouch of fake blood, placed under the plaster. The saw had cut into the pouch. This was someone's idea of a joke.

"Goodness, don't do that to me my dear, there's only so much stress an old man's heart can handle! Abigail, did you have something to do with this?" Ducky turned to a pink-cheeked and grinning Goth, "As far as pranks go, it was rather creative. Kudos to you dear."

Abby moved over to Ducky's desk, pushing an old book aside to reveal a hidden camera, "I hid that in her cast weeks ago. I don't even think Ziva knew about it." she turned to her friend, hugging her tightly, "Sorry, Ziva. I thought we could all have a good laugh over it when its a hit on YouTube."

Tony felt his blood pressure fall, knowing now that this was all just a hoax, "Does Gibbs know about this, Abbs?"

"Doesn't he always?" a voice called from behind them, "Ducky, we've gotta go. Tony, you're with me." the ability Gibbs possessed for stealth was legendary, and irritating. He could enter and leave a room without you ever knowing he was there. Last year, Abby gave him a Batman T-shirt for Christmas. He didn't get the reference.

"What about me, Gibbs?" Ziva asked, now free of her plaster chains

"Desk." he told her simply

Tony patted her back gently, "Don't worry, its only for like a week. Its better than being cooped up in bed though, right?"

She nodded, without much enthusiasm, "I suppose."

* * *

McGee came into the bullpen, passing out what Tony claimed to be the best burritos in DC. They were all skeptical, recalling the infamous goat burgers. Tony came up behind him, stealing one from the bag, "I'm starving! Can't believe they scheduled personal fitness testing today. You're lucky, David. You get out of it for another week, and the women's tests are easier." he sat back at his desk, "Ah, the simple pleasures of a job well done." he sighed, digging into his lunch

"You didn't pass though, Tony." McGee noted, "Gibbs said you have to take it again next week when Ziva does."

"It was still very stressful!" he complained, "I spent weeks running with the ninja girl over there at four in the morning to train. And for what? To be told I failed." The end of his burrito unwrapped, spilling its contents onto his lap, "Oh, come on!"

Ziva walked to him, sitting on the edge of his desk, "Oh, poor Tony. Do you want to talk about it?" she pouted, mocking him, "You know, someone is always willing to lend an ear if you want to talk." she whispered seductively

Tony immediately perked up, "Really? And who might that be, Zee-Vah?"

"Your friends, remember?" she gestured with a grin to an unfamiliar object on his desk, "You know, I think they're listening."

A large ornate goldfish bowl with two small fish in it sat on his desk. The two creatures stopped chasing one another, and both were now watching their owner. Tony lowered his head to become level with the desk and stared at the fish.

"Uh, Tony? You can't stare down fish. They don't have eyelids, so they can't blink." McGee informed him

Tony continued to stare at the fish, completely oblivious to everything else around him. Ziva grew concerned, "I do not think this is normal, McGee. Perhaps he truly does possess the ability to communicate with these animals?"

McGee smiled reassuringly, "I don't think so, Ziva. Who got him the fish?"

"Me." Gibbs said, slapping both Tony and McGee's heads. He stopped himself before his hand made contact with Ziva's head, "Consider that a warning. DiNozzo is no longer your scapegoat, and any slaps you earn, you get."

"Thanks, boss." Tony started on his casefile, his eyes occasionally drifting from the paper to the bowl. Peering through the curved glass, his view of his partner across the isle became distorted. Most of her appeared normal, except for her chest, magnified to several times normal size. He watched her working, through his bowl, gazing at her with lust.

After a moment, Ziva looked over at her partner. He was watching the fish again. Only there was something different in his eyes. Something privative. "Tony? You are aware that bestiality is not only a sin, but is extremely disturbing, yes?" she walked up to his desk, determined to find an explanation

As Ziva walked closer, the warped image through the glass changed. Rather than a swollen chest, now her abdomen appeared swollen and pregnant. Tony initially reacted with shock and horror, but the longer he looked, the more beautiful it seemed. Ziva pregnant? It could happen. _Maybe someday_


End file.
